


Break of Dawn

by Aymin111



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dawnguard, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Slow Romance, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2020-03-01 11:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18799234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aymin111/pseuds/Aymin111
Summary: Vampires have increased their activity in Skyrim. Villages being raided, people being abducted. The Dawnguard has been reformed with the promise of defeating the Vampire threat, and their newest recruit joins with the desire to avenge those he's loved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I'm new to AO3 and have been working on this fic for a few weeks now. Stumbled across this website and I figured I would upload it here as well! Hope you all enjoy it, please feel free to leave any feedback/ask any questions, I'm always happy to hear from anyone who's read through my stuff!

_I should not have come here._

“I’ll never tell you anything. My oath to Stendarr is stronger than any suffering you can inflict on me.” The vigilant looked at the two vampires towering over him. Despite his position, bloodied and on his knees the man looked as proud as ever. The two others scoffed down at him.

I believe you, Vigilant. And I don’t think you even know what you’ve found here. So go and meet your beloved Stendarr.” One of the vampires, a Nord, drew his sword and plunged it down through the collarbone of the Vigilant in a movement so casual it made Arven’s stomach flip.

_Oh, I really shouldn’t have come here._

Despite the voice in his head, the Imperial Dawnguard warrior remained crouched on the ledge above the two vampires. Most of the cave had been straightforward to this point. A few skeletons and vampire fledglings, ones too weak and new to the blood to be any real threat. The only powerful vampire was severely weakened by a _gigantic_ spider which left him unable to put up much of a fight at all.

The two vampires continued to bicker, one of them called Lokil with a few other names thrown about. After slaying the Vigilant they both approached the ancient ruins – ones with architecture unlike any that Arven had seen in modern years. Studying the two, they seemed stronger than the other’s he’d already killed. That could be a problem.

Remaining crouched on the upper ledge, Arven pulled out the scroll he’d recovered seconds ago. A Fire Storm scroll. He had no idea why no one else had picked it up, it almost seemed to convenient. He’d be a fool not to make the most of it however. While not the most skilled in destruction as he favoured restoration and melee combat even a warrior knew how much damage even one scroll could cause.

As the two vampires crossed the bridge back to the ruins Arven began to chant. Instead of the magicka coming from his body, he felt it surging within the scroll as his fingertips grew hot underneath his plated gauntlets. His voice grew louder, eventually alerting the two vampires. But, by the time they figured out what the stranger had done, it was too late for them.

A torrent of fire surrounded the two vampires, searing flames licking at their skin as the temperature rose well into the hundreds within seconds. The entire cavern was lit up in a single moment. Their screams were almost drowned out by the cascading flames as they burnt, both vampires flailing and running back out, towards where Arven was now standing.

After he’d cast the spell Arven descended the steps while drawing his sword; a unique Daedric artefact given to him by Meridia. Dawnbreaker let off a gentle light from its blade which grew stronger as it approached the two burning undead. The first vampire didn’t even notice the new face until the moment Arven’s sword had severed the head clean from the body, a holy light cauterizing the wound immediately as it seared any undead flesh it came into contact with. The other, Lokil somehow managed to draw his own weapon before frantically lunging forward with a blood-curdling scream.

Stepping up with one-foot Arven raised his shield using its edge to smash Lokil in the face. After staggering the undead Arven then gave him the same treatment as the other vampire – a head cut cleanly from the shoulders.

After both of the fiends were slain, the warrior still stood in place for a few moments longer with his shield raised, surveying his surroundings. His heart beat like crazy, over and over each second until finally he let out a deep breath and relaxed. The cavern was empty, as far as he could tell.

“Fucking hell, I hate vampires.” Muttering to himself the man wiped the flat of his blade on his arm, removing the blood before returning it to its sheath and resting his shield across his back. With a grunt he leaned against the railing to one side of the platform he stood on, reaching behind to unfasten a potion he quickly drank. It tasted foul, but he wasn’t going to risk catching a disease from anything in the cavern, let alone a vampire.

After catching his breath and composing himself, Arven approached the ancient ruins still searching for whatever it was that the vampires thought they had found. As he got closer the layout became clear, braziers all laid out around a central pedestal. As he passed a skeleton sprawled out on the floor, he drew his sword and plunged the tip into the skull in his stride. Seemingly dead creatures had gotten the better of him before, and he had no desire to repeat that experience.

Approaching one of the braziers Arven gave it a solid push. Nothing happened. It didn’t even budge.

“Okay. Grooves in the floor, handles, but you don’t move.” Giving the brazier a solid kick instead, partially to see if he could make it budge and partially from frustration, he simply ended up walking away with a slight limp. After trying another brazier and getting the same result he approached the platform in the middle and lay a hand on the top, where a button seemed to be placed. At least, he thought it was a button.

_Alright, what’s the worst that could happen?_

He pushed down, and a spike drove through his hand.

“SHIT! Fucking hells.” Recoiling immediately from the pedestal a soft yellow light radiated from his hand, the wound slowly closing over as the entire platform he stood on was illuminated in an eerie, somewhat beautiful purple glow. The glow lined up with the grooves on the floor, always passing through the braziers.

_Right, okay. Kid’s puzzle. Did the vampires_ really _not figure this out?_

A few minutes later with a sore, yet healed hand and the final brazier locked into place, the entire cavern seemed to rumble as the floor beneath Arven started to shift about. The centre pedestal seemed to turn into a stone pillar of sorts, the floor around it being depressed enough to grant comfortable access to the pillar.

_How ominous. Well, can’t go this far and back out now._

Drawing his sword and shield once more the Imperial approached the pillar with Dawnbreaker levelled horizontally, tip aimed directly forward. He didn’t know what to expect, but considering that vampires were after it he _knew_ that it’d be nothing but trouble.

Oh, how right he was.

All it needed was a light tap from his shield and the ‘door’ to the pillar gave way. Arven crouched down, shield up as he expected almost anything. Magic, a trap, some mega draugr-vampire hybrid. Instead, he got a woman.

A woman that fell directly onto him. As she stumbled Arven barely had time to point his blade away, opening his arms to catch her before she ended up sprawled across the floor.  


“Woah, hey! Are you alright?” Arven said, shaking his shield off of his hand in order to give the woman some more support. In response the woman looked up to him with bright yellow eyes, her wine-red hair obscuring half of her face.

”Unh… where is… who sent you here?” said the woman. As she looked up at him, Arven felt his breath catch.

_Gods, she’s beautif- wait, fangs?!_

The second he realised Arven pushed her back with his left hand, forcing the woman back against the stone pillar. She would’ve fallen back into her tomb of sorts but the gigantic scroll on her back blocked her from doing so. As soon as there was some distance between them Arven held onto Dawnbreaker with both hands, tip aimed directly at the vampire’s face.

“Woah, that is _not_ the way I was hoping to be woken up! Who are you?” said the woman who seemed far too relaxed considering her current situation. In response Arven tightened his grip on his sword before speaking.

“Who were you expecting?”

“I was expecting someone… like me, at least.” As she spoke, the woman raised a single finger up to the blade. She went to push it down, but recoiled once the blade singed her skin.

“Ow! Can you put that thing down? I’m not sure if you realise but waking up to a sword in your face isn’t the most enjoyable way to start your day,” she said, still seeming completely unthreatened.

“Every vampire I’ve ever met has tried to eat or kill me, or both. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m not exactly trusting of you,” Arven replied, inching the blade closer to the woman.

“Look, I’m _really_ tired and I have no idea what’s going on. Please just relax a bit?”

_Well, she has a point. She’d hardly be a threat in her current state… wait, no! What am I thinking?_

Shaking his head, Arven replied. “Nope, no deal.”

That seemed to annoy the woman as she frowned, folding her arms across her chest.

“Charmer, aren’t you? Who even sent you?” she asked.

“The Dawnguard. They’d want me to kill you on the spot.”

“Not fond of vampires, are they?”

“Sure, you could say that.” As he continued to look the woman in the eyes Arven couldn’t shake an incredibly strong feeling of unease, his stomach feeling like a pit.

“Well look. Kill me, you’ve killed one vampire. But if people are after me, there’s something bigger going on. I can help you find out what that is,” she said. As she spoke the vampire idly drummed her fingers on her upper arm.

“What makes you so special, anyway?” Arven asked. In response the woman turned to the side, pointing to the scroll on her back.

“How many other vampires have you seen with an _Elder Scroll_ on their back?” The tone she used was one of the most condescending Arven had ever heard, but once he realised what she was carrying he finally dropped his weapon.

“Wait, what? Where’d you get that?” Arven asked, taking half a step back. He knew about Elder Scrolls, but he didn’t trust them. He’d heard about the things they could do, supposedly. None of it really made any sense to him.

The woman shuffled on the spot, seeming somewhat awkward. “It’s… complicated. I can’t really talk about it. I’m sorry.”

_Sorry? Why is she apologising all of a sudden?_

Finally, Arven decided to ask the most important question.

“Why were you locked away like this?” A long period of silence fell over the pair, the woman looking to the ground before replying.

“That’s… complicated. And I’m not totally sure if I can trust you. The sword pointing doesn’t really inspire friendship. But, if you want to know the whole story, help me get back to my family’s home.” After speaking she looked up, locking eyes with the Dawnguard soldier.

_Something is… different, about this one. At least she hasn’t tried to bite me yet._

“…Alright. Just don’t try anything reckless,” Arven said, still holding his sword at his side although he kept the tip pointed to the ground.

“I was going to say the same thing to you,” the woman replied. She brushed her hair out of her face, those yellow eyes piercingly bright in the dim light of the cave. “My family used to live on an island to the west of Solitude. I would guess they still do. By the way… my name is Serana. Good to meet you.” After speaking Serana held out her hand, her other hand resting on her hip as she waited for a reply.

_Okay, what kind of vampire wants to shake my hand? This is all sorts of… wrong._

Despite his thoughts Arven extended his hand, clasping Serana’s in a firm handshake.

“Arven,” he said, leaving it at that.

After a slightly awkward silence between them the two broke eye contact. Arven dropped to one knee and picked up his shield while Serana took a few steps, raising her arms high above her head as she stretched. In doing so, she caught Arven’s eye.

_Good God, she’s gorgeous. Shame about the whole bloodsucking bitch thing._

“So…,” Arven said, standing up and looking around. “Any idea how to get out of here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she replied. “This place looks pretty different from when I was locked away. Which way did you come in?”

Arven pointed back over his shoulder. “That way, through some old caves.”

“Well, why don’t we head back out there?”

“Nah. These caves always loop around at the end, and I get the feeling we’re near the end of it.” Raising his arm, Arven pointed in the opposite direction – a bridge connected to the other side of the platform they were on.

“Uh, I’m not so sure about that,” Serana said. “What if we hit a dead end?”

“Never happens. They _always_ loop around.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Arven just shrugged in response, then he started walking off in the direction he chose. Serana just shook her head.

“You better be right about this,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” Arven said. “Out of curiosity though, how long were you in there? Surely caves can’t change _that_ much.”

“Good question,” she responded. “Hard to say. I… I can’t really tell. I feel like it was a long time.” She paused for a moment, appearing deep in thought for a few seconds that seemed to drag on forever. “Who is Skyrim’s High King?”

Arven let out a brief laugh. “That’s actually a matter for debate,” he said.

“Oh, wonderful. A war of succession. Good to know the world didn’t get boring while I was gone. Who are the contenders?” As they walked Serana stayed a few paces behind, her stride incredibly relaxed with a long blade strapped to her waist. Her demeanour was the polar opposite of the Imperial in front of her, sword and shield always raised and ready.

“The Empire supports Elisif, but there are many in Skyrim loyal to Ulfric,” Arven said.

“Empire? What… what Empire?” Serana said, making Arven stop in his tracks. He turned to face her, peering through his helmet.

“The… Empire. From Cyrodiil,” he said slowly, enunciating every word.

Serana’s eyes widened. “Cyrodiil is the seat of an empire?” For the first time since they’d met, Serana looked visibly worried. “I must have been gone longer than I thought…” Shaking her head, she started walking again – overtaking Arven as she peered through the darkness in search of an exit. “Please, let’s hurry. I need to get home so I can figure out what’s happened.”

_The Empire has been around for… hundreds of years by now. How old is she?_ Arven shook his head, quickly catching up with her.

“Hey,” he said, trying to catch her eye. “The Empire has been around for a _long_ time.”

Serana didn’t respond, only quickening her pace.

“Are you… okay?”

“What, is the little vampire hunter worried about me? That’s sweet,” she said. Her voice seemed even more sarcastic than usual.

“What can I say. Any vampire is dangerous in the best of moods, let alone when they’re angry or upset,” Arven said.”

“How touching.”

Just as Arven was about to respond the sound of stone _cracking_ echoed around the cavern. He looked around in the dim light, raising his shield just in time as a gargoyle jumped from the shadows and crashed into his shield head-on. He let out a yell in defiance as he held his shield out in front of him, his sword-hand pushing to try and fend off the gargoyle as it made him slide back through the dirt.

As the weight of the beast threatened to push him down, claws swiping past the shield to try and catch him he heard the sound of a _second_ gargoyle coming to life.

_Shit. She’s probably far too tired to defend herself, and she has answers_.

With a loud cry of defiance Arven dug his heels into the ground and pushed, slamming his shield into the face of the beast. Sending the gargoyle reeling he then swung with his sword, slicing the claw that came swiping at him before burying his sword into the chest of the creature.

With a kick to separate his sword from the gargoyle he swung around, looking for Serana or the other creature so he could step in before anything happened. Instead of finding the vampire fighting off the attacker, he found her standing idly by with one hand on her hip, sparks dancing between the fingers on her other hand.

_Wait, what?_

Looking further away he saw the other gargoyle. It was entirely lifeless, scorch marks on its chest that arced along its entire body. Not only that but its arm had been cleanly blown off, along with a chunk of its torso.

“Are you alright? You seemed to struggle a bit there,” Serana said with an infuriatingly cocky expression.

“Yeah, fine. You… What?” Lost for words he simply pointed at Serana, then at the gargoyle she’d dispatched. He was thankful for his helmet as he knew his expression would look utterly ridiculous.

In response Serana just flicked her fingers, sparks of electricity dancing from her fingertips before dissipating into the air.

“Please, it’s one gargoyle. Can we keep moving, now?” she said.

“…Sure,” Arven replied.

_Well, I’m an idiot, Old vampire, strong vampire. One and the same, and she’s_ old.

As Serana walked off Arven caught himself staring for a moment, and she noticed.

“Yes?” She said.

“You’re old, aren’t you. Like, _really_ old,” he asked.

Her expression deadpanned. “These… Dawnguard don’t really teach you how to speak properly, do they?”

Arven shrugged. “I can shout pretty well.”

“What a useful skill. Thanks.”

_If only you knew._

The rest of the journey through the cave was mostly uneventful. A few more gargoyles came along the way although they were in plain enough view that Arven could put them to rest the moment they broke free. He wasn’t about to look weak again, _especially_ in front of a vampire. Should she decide to turn against him, he wanted her to have second thoughts of her own safety.

Serana idly made a comment about the air feeling heavy, whatever that meant.

A few draugr came out as they always did. They posed no threat. Any Dawnguard member could handle the undead, and the draugr were usually the weakest of the lot. Surprisingly enough a Word Wall was in the back end of the cave system, for some reason. Arven approached, absorbing the information.

“What _are_ you doing?” Serana asked when she noticed him dragging his fingers gently across the stone.

“Oh, nothing. I’m just a fan of old carvings like this,” Arven replied, inhaling deeply to absorb the knowledge.

“Can you even read that?”

“Not really.”

_I mean it’s technically true. I don’t know what it means_ literally _, but I can still use it._

An hour or so after they had met the pair emerged out the back end of the cave and Serana saw the world for the first time in hundreds of years.

“Ah, it’s so good to breathe again!” Serana said, stepping out and looking up as snow gently fell upon her face. “Even in this weather, it’s better than the cave.”

“Anything beats a tomb,” Arven said.

“You sure know how to brighten a conversation, don’t you?”

Once again, Arven shrugged.

“Alright then. Which way is home?” Serana asked, looking around as the moon shone down brightly upon the land.

“No idea. Let’s walk until we find a road and go from there. I’ve got a map.” Arven said before he started walking in a random direction.

Serana paused for a moment, but unable to come up with a better solution she started following.

“By the way,” Arven said. “Told you so.”

“Pardon?”

“About the cave. It looped around. Told you.”

Serana shook her head. “You’re an idiot.”

Beneath his helmet, Arven couldn’t help but smile just a little.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! Uploading this at the same time as the 1st and 3rd to catch up.

“Do you have to stand so close to me?” Serana asked, her long hair blowing behind her in the harsh wind.

“Any further away and I couldn’t _see_ you,” Arven replied. He was around a single pace away from the vampire with just enough room for a person to squeeze in between them, if they so wanted.

“Your eyesight must be terrible,” Serana replied.

“We’re in a blizzard. No one can see in these conditions,” Arven said. He was trying to be subtle when he kept checking up on Serana, but due to the limited vision he had and the restricting helmet he wore, he mostly ended up turning his head 90 degrees to the side.

“Well, no _mortal_ can,” Serana said. The difference in their posture was incredibly obvious. Arven had his shoulders hunched, trying to limit the amount of surface area that was facing the front of the blizzard while Serana strode along side him, standing up tall and proud as if the weather and visibility were both perfect.

“Seriously though,” she continued. “You don’t need to keep checking; I’m not going anywhere. I _want_ to go home.”

“Miss your family, huh?” Arven said. He almost sounded bitter, although it was hard to tell with the raging winds filling their ears.

“…Not quite. It’s… not the most welcoming place, but depending on who’s around, I’ll be safe there.” Serana said.

“Didn’t you say it was your family home?” Arven replied. “Why wouldn’t you be safe?”

“Let’s just say that my mother and father had a bit of a falling out. I’m not in any danger, really. It’ll just be more unpleasant to run into my father.” Serana waited for a response after she spoke, but instead an uncomfortable silence just fell over the pair. Arven simply stared at the woman, his helmet making his expression impossible to read.

“Ugh, saying all this out loud makes it sound so… common. ‘Little girl who doesn’t get along with her father.’ Read that story a hundred times.” Serana shook her head as she spoke, an almost disgusted look souring her beautiful features.

“Almost makes you sound like a regular person,” Arven said. Serana frowned.

“I may be a vampire, but I’m still human you know,” she said.

_No, you’re not._

“ _Anyway,_ ” she continued. “I’m not going to run off, so you can relax a little.”

“I’m not worried about you running off. I’m worried that any second now, you’ll remember where you are.” Arven said. Despite his shield on his back and sword in its sheath, Serana started to notice that his hands were never too far away from either. He was constantly tense.

“I’m worried that once you remember where you are, how to get home, that you’ll stab me in the back and leave me to die in a ditch, and I won’t be able to get to the bottom of all this.” As he spoke, Serana remained quiet.

“Once I get you home, you won’t need me anymore. Honestly, this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but the idea of a bunch of vampires with an _Elder Scroll_ scares me shitless and I don’t quite know what else to do besides follow along.” Arven’s voice continually grew less calm, his mind racing as he tried to justify his current actions.

He was being blatantly honest. He had absolutely no idea what the right thing to do was in his current situation. It was idiotic. He just couldn’t do _nothing_ , so something suicidal like walking into a vampire’s home seemed better than that.

“What happened to you to make you so distrustful of vampires?” Serana asked.

“Not sure if you know this, but most people generally don’t like vampires. You aren’t the most popular bunch.”

“Sure, most people dislike us, but you hate us. I’ve known you for a few hours and it’s the most obvious part of your personality. No one hates like this without good reason.”

“There’s a reason.”

Serana didn’t push the topic. She wasn’t in much of a talking mood, and that wasn’t exactly the nicest conversation she’d ever had. The two simply continued walking, Arven doing his periodic checks every 10 seconds or so.

Earlier on he’d decided to start walking to Castle Volkihar immediately. The Sun had just set as they excited the cave earlier, leaving them a decent amount of time to make some progress. If they walked all throughout the night at a decent pace, they should be able to make it just as the sun was rising. That is, if his map was accurate.

Initially he was worried about someone running across them and causing problems, instantly recognising Serana as a vampire due to her eyes. The blizzard reduced those fears to nothing, no one would be foolish enough to go out in these conditions at night. Well, almost no one. When he’d brought that up to Serana she simply laughed at him. According to her, no one would be able to see her true eye colour. They’d all just see her as a (mostly) regular woman.

He’d asked her why _he_ could see them, and she simply replied that she didn’t have time to use any illusion magic since she’d just woken up. Unknown to Serana, Arven also had a charm around his neck specifically designed to resist any magics from a vampire. He just didn’t want her to know that.

After almost two hours they passed the turn-off to Morthal. There were a few lights still on, barely visible in the blizzard. Serana watched them the entire time they were in view but they moved straight past the town.

“You know,” Serana said. “We can stop and sleep through the day, continue the next evening. We can even walk _during_ the day. It won’t be pleasant, but as long as it doesn’t shine directly on me, I’m okay. Just a bit weaker. You don’t have to exhaust yourself.”

Arven thought for a moment. The idea of her being weaker was honestly a pretty good one, it just meant them stopping and resting. If he stopped, he might fall asleep. If that happened, chances were he’d either lose her or die.

“No,” he said. “We keep walking. Through the day if we need to, since you’ll be fine.”

“Aren’t you tired? Freezing? How haven’t you frozen to death yet?” Serana asked. She almost seemed worried.

As if right on queue Arven let out an almost silent breath. “ _Yol.”_ Heat escaped from his lips, warming his face in an instant as the warmth then spread throughout his entire body. It was a handy trick he’d learnt a few moons after discovering he could shout fire. If he toned it down, put less force into it then instead of breathing fire he simply warmed his body. Handy for when it gets too cold.

“Tired, sure. Freezing, not at all. We keep going.” Arven said. Serana just shrugged and followed along.

 A bit after Morthal the blizzard stopped, finally giving way to clear skies and a bright, full moon. After the weather had cleared Serana slid her hood off, brushing some snow from her hair. She actually smiled as she took a deep breath again.

_No one that old should be that attractive,_ Arven thought.

“How much longer until we’re there?” Serana asked.

“6 hours, maybe? We’re about a quarter of the way there.” Arven replied.

“ _Seriously?_ We’ve been walking for hours!”

“Only a couple so far.”

Serana just sighed, placing her hands on her hips. “We really are going to be walking all night, aren’t we?” She asked.

Arven nodded. Reaching onto his belt he unbuckled a small satchel, taking out a green potion. Over the few hours they’d been walking his steps had slowly gotten slower and shorter. He’d been awake for a long time now, and half of that time had been spent fighting. Understandably, he was exhausted. The warrior just didn’t want to show it.

Reaching up he took off his helmet with one hand, his hair matted with sweat clinging to the inside of the helm momentarily. His dark brown hair was messy, his fringe almost reaching his lips when he didn’t have it swept back. Wiping his hair, the dirt and grime from his face Arven brought the bottle up to his lips and downed it in a few moments. He drank voraciously, as if he was dying of thirst. He didn’t notice but Serana was watching with an amused smirk as he did so.

After finishing the contents of the stamina potion, he placed it back in the satchel it came from and went to don his helmet once more, but paused when he noticed Serana looking at him.

“…What?” He asked.

Serana just turned away with a hint of a smile on her lips. “Nothing. It’s just amusing, you’re thirstier than I am.”

With a grunt Arven placed his helmet back on and caught up with Serana again, walking along her side. Now that the blizzard had passed, they were walking a few more paces further apart. He initially dismissed what she said, but then the Imperial realised something.

“Actually, aren’t you thirsty?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” Serana asked.

“Well, you haven’t drank… eaten… in a while.”

“Understatement of the year, but you’re right.”

“Well, is that an issue?” Arven asked. He was trying to approach the topic cautiously; he didn’t want to give her an invitation to go off hunting. He also didn’t want her collapsing on him.

“No, it’s not. I am feeling weak, but I’ll be fine until I get home.”

_If this is her when she’s weak, I’d hate to see how strong she is when she’s sated._

“Right,” Arven said. “Good to know.”

“I mean, if you’re offering, I’ll gladly take a bite out of you.” Serana turned to look at Arven as she spoke, offering him a quick wink. The walk was long and boring, so she had to find entertainment somehow. She decided she’d find that entertainment by toying with a stuck-up warrior.

“No.”

“No?” Serana asked? “That’s it? Oh Gods, you’re dull. Can you show some expression, make a joke? Something?”

 Arven looked straight at Serana. He shook his head. “Nope.”

“Out of all the people to wake me up, did it have to be you?”

“Yep.”

Pouting heavily, Serana folded her arms and kept on walking, picking up the pace slightly to force Arven to keep up. A few moments later sparks began to dance between her fingers, the electricity building up before she discharged the smallest amount in Arven’s direction.

The lightning zapped him and he jumped, a small yelp coming from him. His voice broke.

Serana cracked up almost instantly. “Oh _God_ , what was that?”

“Nothing. That was nothing,” he replied, trying his best to act entirely normal.

“That was hilarious!” Holding her stomach Serana bend over at the waist, her laughing echoing throughout the woods around them. If she wasn’t so annoying, the sound would actually be quite pleasant, Arven thought.

“Is this what happens when you’re locked away for a few hundred years? You go a little insane?” Arven asked. His cheeks were slightly red under his helmet.

“Oh please, I am not even close to being insane. _Anyone_ would find that funny.” After she’d finished laughing Serana straightened up, wiping a single tear from her eye.

“They really wouldn’t.”

“Oh, come on, what’s not to love? One moment you’re acting all tough, ‘ _Oh look at me, I’m the powerful vampire slayer! I don’t need any sleep, this blizzard is my bitch!’_ Then you squeal like a child!”

“Wonderful, not only am I stuck with a vampire, I’m stuck with a vampire that’s lost her mind.”

“I have not, but if this trip was any duller, I just might go crazy. You can’t blame me for trying to have a little fun.”

Arven sighed. “I suppose not.” A part of him felt slightly guilty, and he felt that it really couldn’t hurt to relax just a little bit. Serana hadn’t done anything suspicious so far, nothing that gave Arven a reason to distrust her. The only thing she was guilty of was being a vampire.

_That’s reason enough_ , he thought. He shook his head, closing his eyes to try and clear his mind. He _couldn’t_ trust her. He’d known people who had trusted a vampire, and they all ended up hurt or dead. Or worse.

_This is what they do. They trick you, seduce you, use you. They’re all the same._

“Just keep on walking, would you?” Arven said.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.” Serana didn’t say much more after that, but she did have a small smile on her lips for a good while afterwards.

By the time dawn was just starting to break, the sky getting the smallest hints of light from the East, the pair had made it to the frozen tundra of Skyrim. A short while later and they spotted Castle Volkihar off in the distance.

“That’s it, out there to the north,” said Serana. She had her hood up now and had put gloves on her hands. She’d covered up every bit of skin that might be exposed to the sun. “We used to keep a boat around here to get there and back.”

Arven didn’t reply, instead walking down the small hill they had crested, his boots crunching in the snow beneath. Serana followed, albeit more slowly than usual.

“You coming?” Arven called behind him, stopping after he’d put a decent distance between them.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just feeling a little light-headed.” Serana replied.

“You alright?”

“Fine, just… hungrier than I thought I’d be. I’m alright.”

They found the boat easily. A small jetty had been built and it was in surprisingly decent condition. It certainly didn’t seem hundreds of years old. They both got in the boat and Arven started to row, Serana sitting in front of him.

“So. This is your home, huh?” Arven asked.

“This is it. Home sweet… castle.” Serana replied.

“You never mentioned it being a literal _castle._ ”

“I know, I didn’t want you to think I was one of those… you know,” as she spoke Serana waved her hands about in the air, her tongue getting caught as she tried to think of a word that escaped her. “Just, one of those women who sit in their castle all day? I don’t know. Coming from a place like this, well… it’s not really me.”

“…Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Arven said. “Just… didn’t really expect you to care about other people’s opinions all that much.”

“I normally don’t,” Serana said.

_The hell does that mean?_

After pulling up at the shore, they both got out and walked up the beach until the ground beneath them turned to stone, a road lined with statues of gargoyles now between them and the entrance to the castle.

“These aren’t going to come to life and jump me, are they?” Arven asked, his shoulder aching slightly as he remembered being crash-tackled by a gargoyle back in the crypt.

Serana chuckled. “They won’t. But if they do, I’ll save you again.”

Arven took a step forward, but as he did Serana reached out and grabbed his shoulder. The moment she did, the warrior flinched and recoiled, turning to face her.

“Ah, sorry. I just… before we go in there,” she said.

“…Yeah?”

“I just wanted to thank you for getting me this far. Even if it wasn’t the most pleasant of trips, I appreciate it. And don’t worry, after we get in there, I’m going to go my own way for a while,” Serana said. She waited to see if Arven said anything, but when he was silent, she continued.

“I know your friends, and you, would probably want to kill everything in there. I’m hoping you can show some more control than that, for your own safety. Once we’re inside, just keep quiet for a bit. Let me take the lead.” After she finished speaking, Serana took a few steps in front of Arven and slowly walked towards the castle.

“Sounds good to me,” Arven said under his breath.

As they approached, an old, thin man stood up straight with a shocked expression. “Lady Serana’s back!” He called out. “Open the gate!”

“ _Lady,_ huh?” Arven said.

“What of it?” Serana asked.

“Aren’t ladies supposed to be all dignified?”

“Oh, _shut up._ ”

The gate was raised and they both walked in. After entering through the main door Arven almost gagged as an incredibly powerful scent of death and blood assaulted his senses. It took everything in him not to throw up in his helmet.

The first person to greet them, unlike the watchman, was a vampire.

“Serana? Is that truly you? I cannot believe my eyes! My lord! Everyone! Serana has returned!” The vampire called out behind him, his voice echoing out.

“I guess I’m expected,” Serana said as she stepped into the hall, beginning to descend a staircase into a large, wide dining hall. The lighting was dim, but as Arven slowly followed Serana, feeling the eyes of the vampire that had called out to everyone drilling into his back, he got a good look at what he was walking into.

Three long dining tables, arranged in the shape of a ‘U’ were in the middle of the hall, men and women all sitting on the outside, facing in. Arven didn’t know if they were all vampires, but the vast majority were at least. It only took a second to figure out where the overwhelming stench had come from.

There were carcases, fresh ones lying on the tables. Vampires were greedily digging into the bodies, tearing flesh from bone and drinking the blood. Some parts were served up on tables, and bloody kegs were placed around the room with wine glasses to go with them. Where ever Arven laid his eyes, there was blood. On the tables, on the floor, on the carpet. On the faces and hands of every single creature in the castle.

The sight was so shocking that for a second, he didn’t even realise that aside from Serana, everyone had their eyes on him.

“I can’t believe it.” A voice rang out from the centre of the room. It wasn’t loud, but it was _powerful_. Arven felt himself stand up straighter, looking to the man in the centre of the room who was holding out a hand to Serana.

“My long-lost daughter returns at least.” As the man spoke Serana slowly approached, still maintaining a decent distance between the two. “I trust you have my Elder Scroll?”

Serana scoffed. “After all these years, that’s the first thing you ask me? Yes, I have the scroll.”

“Of course I’m delighted to see you, my daughter.” When the man spoke, every other vampire stopped what they were doing. He had their full attention. It was somewhat impressive, Arven had never seen someone who could make a vampire stop feeding voluntarily. “Must I really say the words aloud?” The man, Serana’s father took a step closer to his daughter. Serana took a step back.

“Ah, if only your traitor mother were here, I would let her watch this reunion before putting her head on a spike,” he continued.

_What a lovely man,_ Arven thought.

“Now, tell me. Who is this stranger you have brought into our hall?” Every eye, almost in unison shifted from the man speaking to Arven in an instant. He had never felt more uncomfortable and exposed in his entire life.

“This is my… saviour, the one who freed me,” Serana said.

A small smile crept up on Serana’s father’s lips, and he slowly approached Arven.

“For my daughter’s safe return, you have my gratitude. Tell me, what is your name?” He asked. Despite his words, Arven didn’t feel an ounce of thankfulness coming from the man.

“Arven.”

The vampire nodded. “I am Harkon, lord of this court. By now, my daughter will have told you what we are.”

“A reclusive cannibal cult.” Arven didn’t know _why_ he said that. It was idiotic. Serana did chuckle a little after he said it, though.

“No, not quite,” Harkon said, obviously rather unimpressed by the jest. “We are the oldest and most powerful vampires in Skyrim.”

_Heard that before,_ Arven thought. Although, something made him more inclined to believe Harkon. The castle probably helped with that.

“For centuries we lived here, far form the cares of the world. All that ended when my wife betrayed me and stole away that which I valued most.” Harkon said, looking over at Serana.

_The girl, or the scroll?_

“So, what happens now?” Arven asked. He would’ve felt immensely safer with his sword in his hand, the weapon whose hilt was glowing incredibly bright with this many undead around. He’d even noticed several vampires staring at it. Arven wasn’t about to draw his weapon in a room full of enemies, though.

Harkon seemed to think for just a moment before replying. “You have done me a great service, and now you must be rewarded.”

“If it’s a dinner invitation, I’ll have to pass,” Arven said. He noticed Serana rolling her eyes.

“There is but one gift I can give that is equal in value to the Elder Scroll and my daughter,” Harkon said after ignoring Arven’s jest. Arven couldn’t help but notice the order in which he referred to those two important “items”.

“I offer you my blood,” Harkon continued. Arven went pale underneath his helmet. “Take it, and you will walk as a lion among sheep. Men will tremble at your approach, and you will never fear death again.”

Immediately Arven began to shake his head. When he spoke, his voice was stammered, weaker than normal. “N-no, I refuse your gift.”

Instead of being offended, Harkon just smiled. “Perhaps you need convincing? Behold, the power!” Holding his arms out to the side Harkon’s skin began to _bleed_ , his form shifting and twisting upon itself before a horrifying, deathly scream boomed from the man.

Where moments ago a regular vampire stood, now there was a beast who’s very presence made Arven want to turn around and run as fast and as far as he could. Every bit of exhaustion that he felt evaporated in a single moment, and all he felt now was terror. Harkon now towered over Arven with grey skin, a demonic visage and crooked, tattered wings sprouting from his back.

“This is the power I offer!” Harkon said, his voice resembling that of the Greybeards in its intensity. “This is the power of a Vampire Lord! Now, make your choice.”

Backing up from Harkon, Arven placed a hand on his sword and drew a few inches of the blade out of its sheath before he even realised what he was doing. The pure blade illuminated the floor around him, reflecting off of the blood and gore splattered on the tiles.

 “No, I refuse. I don’t want your gift,” he said. Somehow, Arven managed to tear his eyes away from Harkon to look at Serana for just a second. She almost seemed ashamed, with a small hint of panic in her eyes as she looked back and forth between Harkon and Arven.

Harkon noticed the blade in Arven’s hand. His eyes grew enraged as he studied the metal that was visible, understanding dawning on his face. Arven realised that if he was as old as he thought, chances are that Harkon knew of Dawnbreaker, and he couldn’t be pleased about its presence.

“Not only do you turn down the offer of a lifetime, but you _threaten_ me?” Harkon said. He advanced on Arven, floating across the floor effortlessly. “I should kill you where you stand!”

“I saved your daughter when I could’ve killed her, and I brought her home. A life for a life, let me leave this place!” Arven called out, trying to make his voice mirror the intensity of Harkon’s. In doing so his dragon blood flared up in his veins, his words almost turning into a shout as he made the floor rumble and the roof vibrate, dust falling down. That made Harkon hesitate.

Arven’s heart was beating incredibly fast, the sound of blood rushing filling his ears. He knew that every Vampire in the room could hear it as well. Drawing his sword fully he stood with it held in both hands, shield still resting on his back.

“Allow me to leave, I will not bother you again,” the Dawnguard soldier said.

In response Harkon descended to the floor, his bare feet touching the carpet beneath. He still remained in the demonic form.

“Very well,” Harkon said. “You are prey, like all mortals. Leave this place, you are banished!”

Arven ran. He didn’t spare anyone a second look, instead climbing the stairs and sprinting out into the open. As soon as he ran through the entrance, pushing past the confused watchman he took in a deep breath of clean air once more, letting it fill his lungs. He sprinted half-way down the stone path before he hunched over and rested his hands on his knees, panting heavily as he struggled to calm down.

The warrior felt as if he was having a panic attack. He’d fought countless vampires before. He’d even fought _dragons!_ But this, this was one of the most terrifying experiences of his life.

Back inside the castle, Harkon had resumed his humanoid figure, walking back to his seat. Serana followed closely behind him.

“Why did you threaten him!?” Serana demanded. “He saved me and brought me back, you had no right to do that!”

“He had no right to insult me in my own home! The fool is lucky his head is still attached to his body,” Harkon retorted. The Vampire Lord took his seat again, drumming his fingers on the wooden table as he thought to himself. Serana stood beside him, her face clouded with anger although she remained silent.

Then, Harkon spoke to the court. “I don’t quite enjoy being talked down to and threatened in my own home. If anyone were to silence a man who’d disrespect me, my name and my home, I would be _very_ appreciative.”

Serana’s expression dropped, a look of shock and disbelief on her face.

“No! You can’t do that, father! He brought you me and the scroll, you can’t kill him!” Serana said, pleading with her father.

“I’m doing no such thing, my darling girl. I’m just enjoying my meal. What the members of this court do is entirely up to them.”

Outside Arven had started walking back to the boat, not looking behind him as he wanted to leave every memory of that castle behind for good. Eventually, the sound of footsteps on stone reached his ears. He spun, his hands free as he had sheathed his sword once more. Standing a hundred or so metres away from him, he saw a _lot_ of vampires.

There were at least 10 all standing together. Despite it being daytime the clouds had covered Castle Volkihar and it was raining lightly. Arven cursed his luck.

The warrior watched the vampires as they all stood idly by, no one making a move. One of them bared his fangs, _hissing_. Then they all charged.

_You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!_

Drawing his sword, Arven began to think. He couldn’t run, they’d catch him. He couldn’t swim away, they’d catch him or he’d drown in his armour. He couldn’t fight them, he was tired and every vampire here was ancient. He didn’t know if any of them could transform like Harkon, and he didn’t want to find out. He only had one valid idea, and he hoped it would work.

Inside Serana continued arguing with her father, but after realising she was getting no where she turned and ran towards the stairs.

“Don’t be a fool Serana, it’s just a human. Just some cattle. Leave it be.”

Serana ignored her father, ascending the stairs within a second as she ran towards the door. Just as she burst outside, she caught the view of Arven standing his ground, sword and shield raised as he was just about to be swarmed by vampires. For some reason, his helmet was off.

_“Yol Toor Shul!”_

Opening his mouth wide a torrent of flames erupted from the Dragonborn, bathing the stone before him in fire as it advanced towards the vampires. Each one of the undead immediately changed their direction. Some turned around, fleeing as flames licked at their heels while others dived off the side of the path. Almost every one suffered burns to some degree.

The shout lasted for a good few seconds until the stone had begun to melt, and Arven only stopped as he felt his fatigue getting the better of him. He didn’t kill any vampire, but the attack had its effect. They all thought him to be too dangerous to risk their own safety attacking now, and that was all the warrior needed.

Placing his shield on his back, Arven kept Dawnbreaker in his hand and turned around to approach the boat. Just as he did he caught Serana’s eye, noticing a look of pure shock on her face. He chose to ignore it. Climbing onto the boat he had no issues sailing away, every vampire standing eerily still and staring at him as he faded away to the horizon.

_Seriously, fuck today._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3! After this updates will be sporadic, I'm aiming for at least one a fortnight depending on work. Hope you've enjoyed it all so far!

Serana sat idly on a chair in the main hall of Castle Volkihar, one leg crossed over the other as her fingers drummed on the wooden table before her. Around her vampires were all feasting, celebrating her return as she sat at the side of her father. They were all revelling in the occasion as thralls continued to bring them more food and blood.

One of the vampires had charmed a thrall to dance in the middle of the hall, acting more like a jester as they essentially flailed about. All the vampires laughed, even Harkon let out a small chuckle. Serana was the only one who didn’t find any joy in it.

Shortly after the warrior who’d escorted her back to the castle had fled, she’d discovered that dragons were roaming around Skyrim once more. Not only that, but since the dragons had returned it meant the return of the Dragonborn, a human with the blood of a dragon who’s not only able to slay the beasts, but is also able to absorb their powers and their very souls.

It all sounded like a fairy-tale to Serana, but she couldn’t deny what she saw. The fire that the warrior had summoned was equal to, if not greater than a master-level destruction mage. Not only that, but the _force_ in his voice was almost terrifying. A part of her was worried. Someone that strong was easily a threat to any vampire, even before taking into consideration the Daedric artefact that he held.

She also wondered why he didn’t use his power in the crypts when fighting off the draugr and gargoyles.

“Daughter?” asked Harkon, the man looking over at Serana.

“Oh, sorry father. What did you say?” replied Serana.

“You seem rather distracted.”

“I’m just… tired, I think. I’m sure my body is still adjusting to being _awake_ again. Plus, that was the first meal I’ve had in a few hundred years.”

Harkon nodded to himself. “Rest if you need to daughter, I am simply glad to see you back among us.”

Serana would’ve liked to believe that. After she had sated her thirst, a thrall offering himself in an attempt to please Lord Harkon, her strength had returned almost immediately. It felt good, she couldn’t deny that. With her strength back she made sparks of lightning crackle around her fingers as she flexed the magicka in her body over and over without releasing it, causing her skin to tingle and crawl in a strangely satisfying way. While entertaining for a moment she couldn’t ignore the frustration she _already_ felt at being back inside the castle under direct supervision.

She could feel Harkon’s eyes on her constantly and despite her age she felt like a child once more, trapped under an adult’s care. The scroll had been immediately taken from her after things settled down and Harkon handled it with as much care as a father would handle their newborn child. She almost felt _jealous_ of the damn thing, and after realising that she was disgusted with herself.

_I need to get out of here,_ she thought.

___

_Good lord, this man works fast,_ Arven thought as he approached Fort Dawnguard once more. When he left the fort was manned, but dirty. It needed some serious work. Now the fortifications had been built. A palisade had been constructed before the fort and as he approached Arven had to identify himself to two guards stationed with crossbows. They didn’t know his name, but showing them Dawnbreaker and casting a restoration spell had been proof enough that he wasn’t undead.

Past the wall men and women were training, sparring with swords and practising their aim on targets set up around the place. Some proper stables had even been built. The sheer change in such a short time astounded Arven. It had only been just over a week since he left, departing straight for the crypt before taking Serana home. The trip back was the long part, travelling by carriage throughout the entire province of Skyrim. During the endless hours he’d let restoration magic slowly burn through his magicka every day and as a result all the aches and pains he’d suffered had now vanished, leaving him fully rejuvenated.

While his body was in perfect shape, his mind was a mess.

_Why the hell did I help bring her home?_

No matter how he thought about it, none of it made sense. He had an incredibly powerful vampire lord with an Elder Scroll in the weakest, most vulnerable position they’d _ever_ be in. He could’ve driven Dawnbreaker through her heart, taken the scroll and retreated back to Fort Dawnguard with his pride intact and the upper hand over the damned beasts. Instead he decided to go on a field trip with one of the most dangerous beings in all of Skyrim, and he’d almost gotten himself killed for his efforts.

_Maybe Isran can make some sense of this,_ he thought.

___

“You did _what?!_ ” yelled Isran, his voice booming through the stone halls of Fort Dawnguard. Various soldiers scattered away from his general direction after he spoke. Even Arven flinched.

“Like I said, I- “

“I know what you said, I just didn’t think you to be a damned fool!” Isran bellowed. He held his head in his hand, muttering to himself as he thought over the brief summary Arven had given him.

“Look, I’m just as frustrated as you are! Every time I look back, I just think I should’ve driven my sword through its heart, but I didn’t and I have _no_ idea why.”

“It’s because she seduced you, boy.” Isran said. He was almost remorseful in his tone.

“What? No, that’s impossible,” Arven replied, shaking his head.

“Is it?”

“Yes, it is! I’ve trained to resist that kind of thing; I’ve got wards against it! I know how vampires work and I’ve done everything I can think of to make myself immune.”

“Come on boy, you’re smarter than this.”

Arven paused. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve trained against basic vampires. Fledglings, diseased weaklings who hide in caves and hunt in packs. Beasts who are nothing more than slaves to the blood. Dangerous, but mostly stupid,” Isran said. As he spoke, Arven was silent.

“You said her father was different. Stronger. How?”

“He could, well… transform.”

“ _What?”_

“He turned into something… I don’t know what exactly. His skin turned grey, he had a demonic, bat-like face and he grew a pair of wings. I don’t know how strong he was, but after he turned, I could _feel_ his power in the air. All the other vampires looked as terrified as I was,” said Arven. It wasn’t the most pleasant memory to recall.

Isran let out a long, tired sigh and sat down on a crate nearby. He ran his hands over his head and looked up, through the opening in the roof of the fort where the sun shone through. “This isn’t good.”

“You’re telling me,” Arven replied.

“That’s a Vampire Lord. From what I know, most vampires are born through the spread of a disease. A plague. Vampire Lords are created by Molag Bal himself,” Isran said.

“For some reason that doesn’t surprise me. So what, people can just go to a Daedric lord and ask to become _that_ thing?”

“I don’t know the specifics; don’t think I want to know. But they’re ancient and they’re _strong_. Did you know old this woman was?”

Arven shrugged. “She was around before the empire, at least.”

“ _Shit._ Alright, think about it for a second. You’re what, 20?”

“22.”

“Right. She’s probably lived your life 50 times over, getting stronger the entire time. Do you _really_ think some wards and a bit of training will make you immune to her magics?”

Arven started to grind his teeth. He knew Isran was right, he just didn’t want to admit it. The idea that he was tricked, that he was used by Serana infuriated him. It made him hate her more than he already did.

“Dammit. Gods, _DAMMIT!”_ Lashing out, Arven kicked the closest thing to him. A bucket ended up flying across the room, shattering against the wall into a thousand different splinters. Above all else, he was incredibly disappointed in himself.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself boy, no one would’ve been able to resist a vampire that strong. It’s a damn miracle you’re still alive at all,” Isran said.

“So, now what. What do we do? They’ve got a fucking Elder Scroll.”

Isran stood up, cracking various joints as he stretched. “We just going to need some help. And I need to teach you some _proper_ restoration magic.”

___

A few days later, Arven found himself travelling back to Fort Dawnguard with two new additions. The first was a hunter by the name of Gunmar, a Nord who lost his family to vampires and claims to hate them almost as much as Isran does. Arven found him easy enough to get along with, and tales of previous vampire-slaying events made the travelling much easier on them both.

The second was a Breton by the name of Sorine. At first Arven thought she was fairly cute, but that opinion was overwhelmed by the fact that she was rather… quirky. She was kind though, and more than happy to come along after Arven spent all of 10 seconds finding a satchel she had supposedly lost to some mudcrabs. Arven still didn’t know how that worked, exactly.

“So, do you think Isran will be happy to see us?” asked Sorine as the trio entered Dayspring Pass.

“Happy? Hah!” Gunmar let out a bark of a laugh as he shook his head. “No chance. I’d bet you 20 septims the first thing he does is yell at us and demand we prove that we aren’t vampires.”

Arven had to agree with Gunmar, but he felt a little bad as Sorine’s expression soured.

“Surely he’d be at least a _little_ happy. At the very least he’d better apologise for the things he said to me when I last saw him!” Sorine said.

“The day Isran apologises is the day I become a vampire sympathiser,” replied Gunmar.

Arven chuckled softly at that. By the time the walls of Fort Dawnguard had come into view the sun had set and moonlight was illuminating the pass. Despite the hour men still guarded the palisade walls, torches alight throughout the canyon to provide as much light and visibility as possible on the approach up towards the fort.

 Every time Arven approached the fort, he couldn’t help but be impressed by the sheer scale of it. He was surprised that such a large structure was abandoned for so long. Surely bandits, or at least someone would’ve squatted there, he thought.

Approaching the palisade, the trio came up behind a group of 5 travellers, all rugged up in warm clothing and hoods as they argued with the men on the walls.

“Please, you have to let us in!” One of them called, a woman at the head of the group.

“We’re sorry. You can camp out here but we cannot let you in until the sun rises,” one of the guards said. Arven rolled his eyes, realising that Isran probably made that rule to try and stop vampires from trying to get in at night. The man was cautious, if nothing else.

“But we’re tired, and starved! Our caravan got attacked by vampires, please, we just want a warm place to stay for the night,” said another member of the group.

“Should we just let them in?” Sorine asked in a whisper, looking to both Arven and Gunmar. She seemed worried about the group, and rightfully so. Their clothing was ragged and damaged, and one of the travellers was limping heavily to one side.

“Isran will kill you if you do,” Gunmar replied, although his voice sounded sympathetic.

“If Isran is worried that they’re vampires, I’ll just heal them. That should be proof enough,” Arven said to the two behind him.

“Good idea! I wonder why Isran doesn’t do that,” Sorine replied.

“Probably doesn’t have any priests. They’re all too busy cleaning up after the war,” said Gunmar. He was right, any skilled healer had been poached long ago to help the Imperials with their clean-up efforts after the civil war had ended.

Having decided Arven stepped forward, taking off his helmet to appear slightly less threatening. “Friends, I can help. I- “

As soon as the travellers turned around, Arven’s stomach turned. When they all stared at him he felt a shiver run down his spine as they all seemed different. _Wrong_. On instinct Arven focused on the amulet around his neck, trying to clear his mind as the amulet’s warding magic removed the illusion of the travellers. All their eyes were a glowing, deep red in the light of the moon.

Upon seeing Arven, they all reacted in an instant. “That’s him!” One of them hissed, and all of them charged.

“Vampires!” Arven yelled at the top of his lungs as he drew his sword just in time. The first vampire had flung himself at the Dragonborn after drawing out a dagger from his robe, mouth open and teeth bared. Taking half a step back Arven planted his feet and drew Dawnbreaker from its sheath to slash at the vampire in a diagonal sweep. The blade sliced through and seared vampire flesh, severing the top half of its torso from the rest of its body as the beast ended up lying on the floor behind Arven in two halves.

Even with one down, he still had four charging at him with murder in their eyes. The men on the palisade were stunned for a moment before reacting, loading their crossbows while their hands fumbled awkwardly with the mechanisms. Thankfully, Sorine and Gunmar were quicker to react. Sorine had taken her own crossbow, a unique invention with various modifications, off of her back. While she seemed aloof, she was almost as prepared and paranoid as Isran at times with her crossbow being continually loaded and ready to fire.

In one quick motion she’d aimed and fired her crossbow, a bolt slamming into the ribs of one of the vampires charging. The beast faltered and fell to the floor, supporting itself on one hand as it gasped from shock.

Just as Sorine was quick, so was Gunmar. The Nord unsheathed his axe and swung it at another vampire, slamming it down through the collarbone of the one closest to him. The vampire screamed out in pain but quickly caught onto Gunmar’s hand, wrestling with the man despite the serious wound.

With two occupied Arven was left with two more charging at him. It was only a second after he’d killed the first that the next was on him, and he wasn’t prepared. As the Dragonborn raised an arm to ward it off the first vampire latched on, teeth sinking into the leather padding. Arven felt the fangs sink into his flesh as the warmth of his blood was sucked out shortly after. He went to bring the pommel of his sword down on the head of the woman sucking on his blood, but the second vampire slashed at him with an elven blade.

Tilting Dawnbreaker to the side he parried the blade coming at his exposed face, raising a leg to kick the second vampire in the chest. After knocking it away Arven then went to bash the face of the one that had latched onto him, but was stopped as he felt something sink into his ribs. Letting out a scream through clenched teeth as the vampire that was sucking on his blood jammed a dagger up into his torso, the Dragonborn took half a step back while shaking his arm in a feeble attempt to shake the damned thing loose.

By now the men on the palisade walls had prepared their crossbows and both took aim. One of the bolts missed but the other, thankfully, slammed into the back of the vampire that had a grip on Arven. As it shrieked in response Arven backhanded it with the hand of the arm that had been pierced before using Dawnbreaker to parry another blow from the sword of the other attacker.

“Alright, fuck you both,” Arven said under his breath. Crouching down with his blade raised, his other hand grasping onto the hilt of the dagger still sticking out of his ribs, he then clenched every muscle in his body.

“ _Wuld!”_

A blink on an eye later Arven had dashed forward, now standing in between both vampires. Each of them now had a blade protruding from their chest. The one who’d been struck by Dawnbreaker fell to the floor as his flesh burned, while the one with a dagger now sticking from its sternum turned with a rage-fuelled shriek and lashed out at Arven once more.

In response, the Dragonborn punched the vampire in the face. With a satisfying _crunch_ his gauntlet-covered hand broke bones in the beast’s face and after knocking it onto it’s back, Arven crouched down above it and placed his hand on the forehead of the vampire. Then, channelling healing magic into his palm the restoration magic _burnt_ the skin of the undead, leaving it in horrific pain for the few seconds before it died, its eyes having burnt out as Arven put more and more magicka into the spell.

Standing up, Arven was relieved to see that both Gunmar and Sorine were fine, each with another corpse by their feet. Neither of them seemed to notice his shout just before, which was a relief.

“Are you three alright!?” Called a voice from the palisade.

“I just got fucking stabbed and bitten,” replied Arven.

There was silence for a moment after that.

“So, no?” came the reply from the guard.

Arven just sighed. Drawing Dawnbreaker from the corpse it was buried in, he sheathed it and placed his hand on the wound in his ribs. Shortly after a soft golden glow emanated form his hand, and he let out a sigh of relief as the flesh began stitching itself back together.

“Are you okay, friend?” Asked Sorine as she stepped up beside Arven, a clearly worried look on her face.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. I could just use a hot meal, now,” Arven said. He then received a clap on the shoulder from Gunmar.

“That was pretty damned impressive, you know. I can see why Isran keeps you around!” Said the Nord.

“You call getting stabbed and bitten impressive?”

“I call _only_ getting stabbed and bitten after killing _three_ vampires impressive, yes!”

Arven let out a soft chuckle before stepping up to the gates.

“If you don’t let us in, I’m going to bloody kill you,” he called up to the guards.

___

A few minutes later, with his armour being tended to by some other Dawnguard members and with bandages wrapped around his ribs, Arven stepped back into the fort followed by Sorine and Gunmar.

“Hold it right there,” said Isran as he looked down on the trio, standing up on a ledge on the floor above them.

“What are you doing, Isran?” Asked Sorine.

“Making sure you’re not vampires. Can’t be too careful.”

Sorine and Gunmar sighed, but complied. They seemed as if they were used to this sort of thing. Gunmar leaned over to Sorine, whispering in her ear. “You owe me 20 septims.”

After a cleansing light had bathed over the three standing on the bottom floor, Isran let out a satisfied grunt.

“So, welcome to Fort Dawnguard. I’m sure you’ve heard a bit of what we’re up against. Powerful vampires, unlike anything we’ve seen before. And they have an Elder Scroll.” Isran said.

“They have a _what?_ ” asked Gunmar, a shocked look on his face.

“What, our friend didn’t tell you?” Isran replied.

Arven just shrugged. “Didn’t need to, just mentioned vampires,” he said.

“Well, yes. They have an Elder Scroll,” Isran continued. “So if anyone is going to stand in their way, it’s going to be us.”

“This is all well and good, but do we actually know anything about what they’re doing? What do we do now?” Sorine asked.

“We’ll get to that. For now, get acquainted with the space. Sorine, you’ll find room to start your tinkering on that crossbow design you’ve been working on. Gunmar, there’s an area large enough for you to pen up some trolls, get them armoured up and ready for use.”

_Armoured what now?_

Arven shook his head, clearing the thoughts of riding into battle with an army of trolls at his side. He noticed Isran was staring right at him.

“In the meantime, we’re going to get to the bottom of why a vampire showed up here looking for you. Let’s go have a little chat with it, shall we?”

Arven’s blood boiled.

_Oh, she’s going to regret this._

___

The second Arven saw Serana he drew Dawnbreaker from its sheath, ignoring the pain in his side as he levelled the blade directly at her face.

“Woah, okay. Does every meeting we have need to start with you shoving your sword in my face?” Serana asked, her hands raised up by her head as if surrendering.

“You tricked me.”

“Say what now?”

“You seduced me. Tricked me into taking you back to your home, and you almost got me killed,” Arven said, his words coming out through gritted teeth.

“I just calmed you down so you didn’t stab me, that’s all! And I didn’t mean for that to happen back home, okay? I thought father would let you leave peacefully, I _promise._ ” As she spoke, Serana looked Arven directly in the eyes. Her face seemed sincere, but he knew better than to trust her.

“And how do I know you’re not trying to cloud my mind right this second?”

“She can’t trick you while she’s in here, boy.” Isran said, breaking Serana and Arven out of their private conversation.

“What?” Arven replied.

“This place is enchanted. This _thing_ can probably feel it right now. Fort Dawnguard was built for a specific purpose, in more ways than one.” Isran continued.

“He’s right,” Serana said. “This place is _really_ uncomfortable for me. And not just because of the beautiful décor. Can we just talk, without your sword in my face?”

Arven hesitated, but eventually he let his sword down. He still wasn’t comfortable with Serana’s presence by a long shot, but he also had to understand that she took an immense risk by visiting him.

_Can’t hurt to hear her out, then,_ he thought.

“Wait, what happened to you?” Serana asked as she looked over Arven’s torso, the bandages covering most of his otherwise bare upper body.

“You weren’t the only vampire to come here tonight,” Arven replied.

“Wait, really?” Serana asked. She seemed genuinely shocked. “What were they doing there?”

“If I had to take a guess, probably looking for _that_.” Isran said, pointing at the Elder Scroll that was sitting on Serana’s back. Arven hadn’t even noticed that yet. He was too fixated on trying to calm himself.

Serana cursed under her breath. She didn’t acknowledge Isran, instead continuing to look at Arven. “Look, I’m sorry for putting you in danger… again. I just really need to talk to you.”

“Well, we’re talking. What are you doing here?” Arven asked.

As the two talked Isran stood off to one side. He sat down on a crate after drawing his huge, two-handed hammer. The head of the hammer came to rest on the ground, an intricately carved piece of silver that let out a soft glow in the same manner that Dawnbreaker’s blade did, just to a lesser extent.

“I’d rather not be here, but this is important, so please just listen before your friend, here, loses his patience,” Serana said. Her face looked serious, and even a little bit desperate.

_She’s a hell of an actor,_ Arven thought.

“It’s… well, it’s about me. And the Elder Scroll that was buried with me.”

“What about you?”

“The reason I was down there… and why I had the Elder Scroll. It all comes back to my father.”

“Nice guy, really.” Arven said. A soft, small smile came to Serana’s lips after he said that.

“Yeah, he’s not exactly a good person. Even by vampire standards. He wasn’t always like that, though. There was… a turn. He stumbled onto this obscure prophecy and just kind of lost himself in it.” Serana said. As she spoke, she folded her arms across her torso, almost hugging herself.

“What sort of prophecy?” Arven asked.

“It’s pointless and vague, like all prophecies. The part he latched onto said that vampires would no longer need to fear the sun. That’s what he’s after. He wants to control the sun, have vampires control the world.”

Arven and Isran shared a look, both of them feeling somewhat disturbed by the idea of the sun no longer being a threat to vampires.

Serana continued. “Anyway, my mother and I didn’t feel like inviting a war with all of Tamriel, so we tried to stop him. That’s why I was sealed away with the Scroll.”

Arven sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You took a serious risk coming here, just to tell us this,” he said.

“I did. But something about you makes me think I can trust you. I hope I’m not wrong.” Serana said. She looked hopeful as she said that, and Arven just felt dumbfounded.

“You know I’m a vampire hunter, right? I _kill_ vampires. It’s what I do.” Arven said. “I’m pretty damn good at it, as well.”

“I’m aware.”

“And _I’m_ the person you trust the most to come to for help?” Arven asked. This all sounded incredibly ridiculous to him. He almost felt like laughing.

Serana didn’t say anything in response, simply looking down at the floor between them as she nodded.

“Wait… seriously?” Arven said.

“Yeah,” Serana replied.

The Dragonborn felt a soft pang in his heart.

“You know I can’t trust you. You’re a vampire.”

“Oh, come on, I’m more than just a vampire, you know!” Serana said, her voice rising slightly in anger. She took a step towards Arven and he immediately flinched, taking an equal step back as his hand tightened around Dawnbreaker.

“I risked my life coming here because I need your help to stop my crazy father from trying to enslave the rest of the world,” Serana continued. “If I was trying to trick you, or fool you or anything else, why would I come _here?_ I know you hate me but think about it for one fucking second! If I wasn’t telling the truth there’s absolutely zero reason for me to risk my ass by walking into this damn fort.”

Arven closed his eyes. _This is a fucking mess,_ he thought. The worst part of it all was that what Serana said made sense.

The Dragonborn looked over to Isran. The older warrior looked back, shaking his head.

“What do you think?” Arven asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe it has a death wish, Maybe it’s just insane. I don’t really care,” Isran replied.

“What she said makes sense, as much as I hate to admit it. If the vampires have a way to block out the sun, we’re in a lot more trouble than we think.”

Isran grumbled. “Are you saying you trust her?”

Serana looked at Arven, hopeful.

“No,” he said. “But I believe what she just told us. She brought us the Scroll, that counts for something.”

Serana let out a sigh, her shoulders slightly hunching over as a wave of relief washed over her.

“You better know what you’re doing.” Isran said.

“I ensure you that I don’t.”

“Remind me again why I let you join the Dawnguard?”

After watching the brief conversation, Serana interjected, her voice slightly more upbeat than before. “Does that mean you’ll help me?” She asked.

“It can stay for now,” Isran said to Arven. “If it so much as lays a finger on anyone here, I’ll hold you responsible, got it?” He then turned to Serana. “You hear me? Don’t feel like a guest, because you’re not. You’re a resource. You’re an asset. In the meantime, don’t make me regret my sudden outburst of tolerance and generosity because if you do, your friend here is going to pay for it.”

Serana just smiled, folding her arms across her chest. “Thank you for your kindness, I’ll remember it the next time I’m feeling hungry.” As she said that she immediately regretted it, both men glaring at her. “Jeez, touchy.”

She then turned back to Arven, her expression lightening just a little. “Well, since my father cared so much about this Scroll on my back, no doubt it has something that can help us.”

“Is there a special vampire perk that lets you read those things?” Arven asked. “If not, I’m really not sure what we can do with it.”

Serana shook her head. “No such luck. We’d need a Moth Priest, most likely. They spend years preparing before they even start reading, though, and they’re all half a continent away in Cyrodiil.”

Isran spoke up, the man leaning forward on his hammer. “Some Imperial scholar arrived in Skyrim a few days ago. I was staking out the road when I saw him pass by. Maybe that’s your moth priest.”

“Do you know where he’s staying now?” Serana asked.

“No, and I’m not going to waste men looking. We’re fighting a war against your kind, and I intend to win it.” Isran then turned to Arven. “Why should I even endorse all of this? You’re a good fighter. You’ve got an even better weapon. You should be out there _killing_ these beasts, not running around the place with one.”

“Trust me, I’d rather be out there as well,” Arven said. “But… we can’t ignore this. Someone needs to look into it.”

“And what happens when this thing ends up killing you and leaving you in a ditch?” Isran demanded.

“Either way I’m out there fighting vampires, just as good of a chance that I end up dead whether I’m with her or not. This is more important than killing a few fledglings, as you called them.”

Isran murmured to himself. He knew Arven was right, he just _hated_ the idea of cooperating with a vampire.

“If you want to find this priest, try talking to anyone who’d meet a traveller. Innkeepers and carriage drivers in the big cities maybe. But you’re on your own.” After saying that Isran stood up, collecting his hammer and throwing it over his shoulder. He walked out of the room, leaving the two behind him without another glance.

“Don’t die, boy.”

After he left, an awkward silence fell over Serana and Arven. He felt frustrated, annoyed. Serana almost seemed hopeful.

“So…,” she asked. “Where do you wanna start?”


	4. Chapter 4

Uncomfortable silences were slowly but surely becoming a staple in Arven’s life. He’d been walking with Serana in the moonlight towards riften for half an hour, with each of them being able to count the amount of words exchanged on both their hands. The distance from the fort to Riften was short, thankfully, so they’d soon have something to do besides walk in silence.

Despite that, Serana figured it couldn’t hurt to _try_ and get some conversation going.

“So,” she said. “You can breathe fire. That’s, kind of cool.”

Aren let out a soft sigh. Out of everything to talk about, this was pretty far down on the list.

“Yeah, I guess I can,” he said.

“How? Is that some kind of destruction magic?” Serana seemed oddly perky as she spoke, as if the topic was exciting for her.

“I don’t think so, no.”

“Well… how do you do it?”

Arven shrugged. “I shout.”

Serana blinked a few times, shaking her head. “Pardon?”

“I shout. I yell some words, and things happen. That’s honestly the extent of my knowledge of _how_ it works.”

“Right. And you can do this because you’ve got the blood of a dragon, correct?”

Arven hung his head. _This conversation just gets better and better,_ he thought.

“Yeah,” he grumbled out as a reply.

“You know, I’m pretty sure any normal person would be _thrilled_ to have that sort of power,” Serana said.

“It isn’t as great as you’d think.”

“Really? It seemed pretty damn great when you scared off a group of ancient vampires with it,” Serana said. As she spoke she was almost staring at Arven, trying to study him despite the helmet he had on. She _did_ notice his heartrate rising as the topic of dragons came up, though.

“It has its uses, sure.”

“That’s putting it lightly. Some of those vampires have been calling for your head, even though now they’re too scared to leave the damn island.”

Arven let out a small chuckle. He was glad that he’d made an impression.

“Why are you so hesitant to talk about it, or even use it though?” Serana asked.

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, we’ve got plenty of time!”

Arven didn’t reply for almost a minute after that. Serana decided to drop the topic, she didn’t want to ruin a trip before it even had a chance to get started. After the silence had grown uncomfortable once more however, Arven stopped in his tracks.

Serana took a few more steps after before she stopped as well, turning back to look at the Imperial.

“Arven, you okay?”

Arven dropped his shield to the floor, the metal leaving an imprint in the snow shortly before he unclasped his belt and let Dawnbreaker come to rest on the ground. Then, he started working at the buckles on his side that kept his breastplate on.

Serana stepped back. “Uhh, what are you doing?”

Arven didn’t respond, he just continued to remove his armour. It was a lengthy process but after a minute or so he let his breastplate and the leather padding along with it fall to the floor.

“No, seriously. You can keep your clothes on, this is _really_ uncomfortable,” Serana said.

“Payback for you making terrible conversation,” Arven replied. He finally got to the bandages that were wrapped around his torso. They were hiding essentially everything from his upper chest to his hips, with one shoulder bare. He went to work unravelling them.

“Very funny. Seriously, you only got hurt a little while ago. Don’t you need those?” Serana asked.

“I recover pretty fast.” Finally, he let the bandages fall to the floor. He then illuminated his hand with some restoration magic and held it near his torso, showing off a plethora of long, jagged and very pronounced scars. Many were in the shape of teeth all across his torso, most dwarfing the most recent one caused by the dagger in his ribs.

Serana’s jaw dropped and for the moment she had absolutely nothing to say. After she’d seen all of the damage to Arven’s front half, he turned around to show more puncture marks along with three long, jagged scars running down his entire back. When she saw that Serana took half a step back, although from curiosity and just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her, she reached out to touch them. Arven didn’t pull back.

Her fingers gently ran over the three long scars, giving them the softest touch imaginable.

“What did this?” She asked.

“Dragons. That was one of the first I fought, I was running away and it slashed at me. Tore up my back before biting my leg and flinging me across the ground.” Arven said.

“And you didn’t _die?”_

“Like I said, I recover pretty fast. I think the blood makes me more resilient than normal.” After Serana had a good look Arven started to place his armour on once more. “Doesn’t do anything to help the pain, though,” he continued.

Arven waited for a response as he put on his armour, although none came. All Serana could muster was a mumbled apology, although she seemed more confused than ever.

“Dragons are the only thing I hate as much as vampires. They’re just as merciless. They burn villages, kill for pleasure, take whatever they believe to be theirs. Unlike being a vampire hunter though, I didn’t _choose_ to be Dragonborn,” Arven said. “I hate vampires, but I don’t mind fighting them. Dragons on the other hand absolutely terrify me, and the only way I’ve been able to beat them is through using their own power. Not to mention, when they find out that I’ve got their blood, they take that as an insult to their race and try to purge me.”

Eventually he had picked up his shield, throwing it onto his back before buckling Dawnbreaker around his waist once more. “Every time I use their power, I’m reminded of every time I’ve fought a dragon. I don’t like to use it unless I have to. And when people find out that I _am_ the Dragonborn, it just brings everything flooding back. Then they get angry when I don’t share in their enthusiasm.”

Fully dressed again, Arven started to walk leaving a dumbfounded Serana behind him. She quickly caught up.

“Does that answer your questions?” Arven asked.

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” Serana replied. She sounded genuine, and didn’t push the topic anymore. Arven appreciated that. She was the first person to leave him alone once he’d explained it. Most people tried to convince him otherwise, or call him a fool.

“Just give me some warning next time you decide to strip in front of me, would you?” Serana asked, her lips curling up into a playful smile.

“ _Next time?”_

Serana shrugged. “Hey, I don’t know your motives. I’m just a single woman out travelling with a stranger, a girl has to look out for herself you know?”

“Oh please, you’re likely the most dangerous thing on this half of the province. I’m the one that’s going to be on edge this entire trip.”

Serana smiled. “You don’t have to be on the lookout all the time. I can tell you if anyone’s getting close,” she said.

“Sure. Doesn’t help protect me from you, though,’ Arven said. Serana’s mood instantly dropped after hearing that.

“You still don’t trust me, do you?”

“Do you still have fangs?”

“ _Why_ do you hate all vampires so much?” Serana asked. “I haven’t hurt you, haven’t _tried_ to hurt you, or do anything against you since we’ve met, but you’re acting like I’m a threat to you.”

“You are, simple.”

“I’m _not!_ I have no ill wishes against you, except that I want to smack you across the face to knock some sense into you!”

Arven looked away. “I think that’s enough personal talk for one night, don’t you?”

Serana just sighed, defeated. “Whatever.”

Arven felt a twinge of guilt as he noticed Serana’s expression, but he didn’t say anything more. He couldn’t trust her, that was a stupid risk that had next to no benefits. Besides, at least this way there’d be less awkward conversations for him to deal with.

After cresting the nearest hill, the lights of Riften finally became visible in the distance. The two continued walking towards the city, following the main stone path that connected Riften to the East. There was a chance of brigands, following the main road, but Arven highly doubted that any could pose a serious threat to him or Serana.

While the walk was silent, their surroundings gave Arven plenty to admire to pass the time. He’d always marvelled at the natural beauty of Skyrim and the aspen trees surrounding Riften never ceased to amaze him. He barely even noticed the cold, partially due to his dragon blood and partially due to him simply being distracted by his surroundings. Strangely, the sound of nature and water running down a stream was one of the few things that could always calm him.

By the time they reached the city, the sun was barely starting to crest over the mountains, much to Serana’s dismay as she put up her hood.

“Are you sure this person will be at the gates of Riften? It’s really, _really_ early,” Serana asked.

Arven nodded. “He’s always been there. The guy is dedicated, if nothing else.”

Arven was right. Near the stables a carriage was patiently waiting, the man sitting at the front idly picking his teeth while his horse munched on whatever grass was within reach. Arven approached the man from the front, not wanting to startle him.

“Morning,” Arven said.

“Morning, need a lift?” The man replied. Straight to the point, as usual.

“No, actually. I was just wondering if you’ve seen or heard of a priest from Cyrodiil travelling around here. Calls himself a Moth Priest?” As Arven spoke Serana stood off to one side, resting against a tree roughly 5 metres away.

“Now why would I know anythin’ about that?”

Arven shrugged. “You travel a lot; you probably see a lot. I’ve got better chances asking you than anyone at random.”

The worker paused for a moment, scratching his chin. “Might be that I have, but I can’t say for sure. I got enough troubles on my mind just tryin’ to scrape by out here.”

Arven grumbled softly to himself. “Please, it’s very important that I find him.”

“Can’t help you friend. I might remember better if my pockets weren’t so light.”

 _Gods dammit,_ Arven thought. He reached into his gold purse strapped to his belt, fumbling around for a suitable amount of coin to bribe the man with. Before he could pull any out, Serana stepped up.

She pulled her hood back just enough to reveal her face, but not enough so that the sun could shine on her skin. “Please? We _really_ need to know where this man is,” she said, her voice sounding much softer than usual.

The man gawked for a moment before he tried to speak, stumbling over his words repeatedly until he cleared his throat. His face was _bright_ red. “N-now that I think on it, I did see your priest. He tried to hire me for a trip to Dragon Bridge, but that ain’t one of my stops.”

“Wait, you don’t go to Dragon Bridge? That’s directly on the way to Solitude,” Arven said.

“Aye, and I don’t go there either. Last time I went to Solitude I had Imperial Soldiers impose a toll on me. Damned near took all the gold I had!”

 _Sure, ‘Imperial Soldiers’,_ Arven thought. He’d heard of people disguising themselves as soldiers before to try and profit on the war.

“Can you take us to Rorikstead?” Arven asked.

The man paused for a moment before nodding. “Aye, I can do that. Hop in back and we’ll be off.”

Arven nodded his thanks, then went to the back of the carriage with Serana. Before they climbed up he caught Serana by the arm, pulling her aside to look her in the eye.

“Did you just use magic on him? An innocent?” Arven asked in a low, yet harsh whisper.

Serana rolled her eyes. “No, I didn’t. I knew you’d get all bothered and angry if I did. I just asked him nicely with a smile. See?” Demonstrating her point, Serana gave Arven a stunningly _beautiful_ smile. He knew it was staged but that didn’t diminish the effect at all. He found himself completely lost for words, her eyes, even though they were yellow, they were _stunning_. He realised that he’d never seen a woman as strikingly gorgeous as Serana was, especially when she smiled, and he didn’t want to look away.

Arven didn’t realise it, but his mouth was hanging open slightly. Serana finally decided to break him out of his trance, flicking him on his helmet.

“Quit staring. Let’s go.”

“…Yeah, sure.”

___

The following day was mostly uneventful. The trip from one side of Skyrim to the other (a trip that was getting far too familiar, Arven noted) was a long one, even by carriage. During the trip Serana mostly talked with the carriage driver, quizzing him about his life, seemingly finding amusement in the small differences of society between her former time and the present.

They stopped on occasion for a break, or to drink or eat. Once again, Arven rarely spoke, only responding to any questions asked directly of him. At one point the carriage driver asked Serana if there was something _wrong_ with Arven. The Imperial had frowned beneath his helmet while Serana just chuckled. By the time the sun was just starting to set with the clouds becoming a soft orange/pink colour in the light of the late afternoon, Whiterun was approaching. The trip was long, but at the very least a carriage in clear weather was a much more comfortable experience than walking in a blizzard.

“Seems like as good a place as any to stay for the night,” the driver said. “Are you both comfortable finding a place to stay in Whiterun?”

Serana looked to Arven, who nodded. “We’ll be fine. Meet you in the morning, at dawn,” Arven said. As he hopped off the carriage, he handed over a generous sum of gold to the driver, covering the cost of both days. With the way he looked at Serana, he didn’t have to worry about him not being there the following day.

The pair approached the gates, walking up the incline towards the entrance. Many of the guards nodded to Arven as they passed, recognising him despite his armour and helmet.

“I’m assuming you know of a decent inn, or something of the sorts?” Serana asked.

“Actually, I live here,” Arven replied.

Serana seemed surprised.

“What?” Arven asked, noticing her expression.

“Oh, nothing. It just seems awfully… normal, to own a home in a city. Figured you to be the ‘always on the road’ type,” Serana said.

“I am. This house was… gifted.”

“Someone _gave_ you a house? Why?”

Arven didn’t respond, instead walking up to the two guards at the gate. Each braced up as he approached, nodding their respect.

“Good evening Thane, it’s good to see you again,” one of the guards said.

“Evening Erik. I trust you and the family are well?” Arven said.

“That we are Thane, even more so now that the city is back under your protection.”

Arven smiled gently. “Only for the night I’m afraid, but I appreciate that.”

The guard let out a short bark of a laugh. “One night is better than none! Enjoy your evening, and safe travels for the morning my Thane.”

Arven and Serana both entered the city, walking towards Breezehome. The building had been gifted to Arven after assisting the city in both repelling the Stormcloaks, as well as various dragon attacks. It was a nice gesture, however it was one of the few places where Arven found it near impossible to hide his Dragonborn status. That alone made him have a strong dislike of the place.

Once they were out of earshot, Serana stepped up to Arven.

“You’re a _thane?”_ She asked.

“That I am.”

“Well, aren’t you just full of surprises. So if you’re staying at home, any suggestions on where I can spend the night?”

“I have a spare bed.”

Serana paused for a moment, slightly shocked. “I’m honestly surprised you’d be comfortable with me staying in the same house as you while you slept. I’m assuming you’re actually going to sleep, this time.”

“I am. I’d rather know where you are than have you roaming the city.”

“Right, of course. Sure. I’ll take you up on your offer.”

“Are _you_ going to sleep?” Arven asked. It was something he never really figured out. He’d seen vampires sleep, but he’d also heard that they don’t _need_ sleep. Now was as good of a time as any to figure that out.

“Maybe. I’m not really tired, so there’s no need,” Serana responded.

“Okay, how does that actually work? Do you need to sleep, at all? Is it just a way to pass time for you?”

“Now who’s asking the personal questions?”

Arven grunted. “Alright, nevermind.”

“No, it’s fine,” Serana responded. “We don’t need to sleep, no. It _does_ refresh us if we’re especially exhausted, though. After a fight or a physically demanding day, it can be nice. If I’m just lazing around though, there’s really no need.”

 _Makes sense,_ Arven thought.

“So, what will you do all night?”

“Read, maybe? Got any books?”

“A few.”

After arriving at Breezehome Arven knocked twice before entering. Serana raised an eyebrow at that, unsure as to why he was knocking on his own door.

“You’re not going to surprise me even further with a family or something, are you?” She asked.

“I’m not exactly marriage material.”

“I’ve noticed. That’s why it’d be a surprise.”

Arven chose to ignore that. He did smile upon seeing a familiar face when he entered the building, though.

“My thane!” A surprised voice said. “It’s good to see you again!”

“Hello, Lydia,” Arven responded. He took off his helm as soon as he entered, placing it down on a nearby table.

“It’s been quite a while. Just staying for the night?”

Arven nodded. “Hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”

“How could you possibly intrude on your own home?”

Arven let a tired smile come to his face. Serana followed in behind him, the woman scanning the house out of sheer curiosity. The house was furnished, but it was bare at the same time. There wasn’t a single personal touch that she could see. No decorations, trinkets, items, anything. Everything she saw had a purpose and was particularly bland in colour.

“Lydia, this is Serana. She’s… helping me out with a few things,” Arven said in a brief introduction.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” Lydia said.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Serana responded as she studied the other woman. Lydia was in full armour, well-crafted steel with a shield on her back and a fine, long blade strapped to her side. It seemed like an _ebony_ blade, something which even Serana knew was worth a considerable sum. At the very least, the woman seemed like she could handle herself.

Serana stepped up to Arven, whispering in his ear. “I like her, she called me a lady.”

“Do you have to get to close?” Arven responded, stepping away.

“Sheesh, touchy. So, where am I staying?”

“I’ll show you to your room, my lady,” Lydia said.

“Thanks, Lydia. I’ll see you in the morning Serana,” Arven said as he began to climb the stairs.

“Turning in already? You know it’s barely even night time.”

Arven nodded. “Yeah, I’m just exhausted.”

 _You_ did _get stabbed fairly recently_ , Serana thought.

Lydia promptly showed Serana to her room, a spacious and comfortable enough place which had the same sort of décor as the rest of the house. There were at least a few books on different topics, most of them either relating to a practical skill or legends of the Dragonborn. There was one book that stood out, being much more worn than the rest. As Serana sat down on the bed she picked it out, flicking through the pages.

It seemed to be a typical hero fantasy told to children. A strong warrior protecting the town from various monsters and invaders. On the first page, a hand-written note was scrawled onto the paper.

                _To my Hero,_

_Know that I am proud of you, that I am proud to be your mother and that my love for you will never run out. You are the brightest thing I have ever brought into the world, and I will care for you always._

_Love, your Mother_

Serana couldn’t help but smile gently as she read the note. It was hard to imagine the Imperial upstairs as a child, let alone a child resting in the arms of their mother. It made Serana think back to her own mother, a somber moment falling upon her. She went to place the book back, but the faint sound of conversation upstairs reached her sensitive ears.

“I hate to ask you to do this, Lydia,” Arven said.

“It’s quite alright my thane. If I may, can I ask why?” Lydia responded.

“I just… I’d feel much safer knowing you were still awake tonight. I haven’t had the best week recently, that’s all.”

 _So that’s why he’s fine with me staying here,_ Serana realised. She clenched her fist, nails digging into her skin out of sheer frustration.

_Damn him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! A shorter chapter this time, just some character development. The next chapter will be much longer with a lot more action in it! Hope you're all enjoying it so far, and once again a huge thank-you to everyone who comments and leaves kudos! It's incredibly motivating knowing that some people are enjoying what I've got to write.


	5. Chapter 5

Arven never slept well, and last night wasn’t an exception. He did manage to get at least a few solid hours, primarily thanks to Lydia, however there was no way he’d be able to relax considering his current circumstances. After waking and rubbing the sleep from his eyes he exited his room, his hand extended in front of him as it gently radiated a white light to give him some vision.

When he exited his room, he instantly saw Lydia. She was wide awake, reclining on a chair with a book in her hands. She looked up with a gentle smile as Arven approached.

“Good morning, my thane. Did you sleep well?” She asked.

“As well as I normally do, I suppose,” Arven responded as he rotated a shoulder, a solid _crack_ coming from the joint.

“Your… travelling companion? Is already awake. I believe she’s waiting out the front for you,” Lydia continued.

Arven nodded, that sounded about right. Looking outside it was still night time. He couldn’t tell how close it was until dawn.

“Thanks Lydia. I appreciate your help,” Arven said. Lydia simply nodded in reply. After splashing some water on his face and loading up a small sack of food for the day, Arven stepped out the front door. The second he did Lydia slumped down in her seat, her façade breaking as she let out a long, tired yawn. A few moments later, she was asleep.

Arven found Serana waiting right outside the front door, resting on one of the wooden poles supporting the house. She had her hood back, arms folded across her chest. Her eyes seemed to be following a rabbit as it cautiously hopped between different houses and vegetation. The moment it saw Arven, it fled.

“You ready to go? The sun’s about to rise,” Arven asked. He was still strapping his gauntlets on as he walked, flexing his fingers in them to ensure a proper fit.

Serana didn’t respond. Instead she just started to walk back to the entrance to Whiterun at a rather quick pace. Arven had to jog for a moment to catch up to her.

_I’ll take that as a yes, then,_ he thought.

Even though the sun was barely starting to come into view over the horizon the carriage driver was there and waiting. It always made Arven feel slightly creeped out, he’d never actually seen _any_ carriage driver doing anything except sit on their carriage. As he walked up Arven swung his food sack up onto the back of the carriage before climbing up himself, Serana following shortly after.

“Morning,” Arven said through a stifled yawn as he settled down.

“Morning. Ready to be off?” The man replied. He seemed fully alert. Arven nodded in response, and a few moments later they were on the road again.

The trip was much, much quieter compared to the previous day. Serana had put her hood up and was mostly just watching the scenery. She didn’t initiate any conversation, and only responded with what was necessary not to be rude when the carriage driver tried to strike up a chat. Arven thought to ask if anything was wrong, but he decided against it.

At least this way he could relax with a clear mind during most of the trip. After roughly an hour the carriage came across Fort Greymoor, an Imperial outpost along the road to Rorikstead. The carriage driver cursed under his breath, clutching his gold purse close.

“You’ll be fine, these men won’t be after your gold,” Arven said to the driver. He’d actually _helped_ the Imperials take the fort earlier, during the civil war. It wasn’t a fond memory, but then again no fight really was. As they approached two Imperial soldiers stood out on the road, one holding up a hand signalling them to stop.

“Hold, friends!” The man called. He was wearing simple Imperial leather with a sword strapped to his waist. After the carriage came to a halt, he approached the driver. “Good morning to you, mind if I ask what you’re doing out this way so early?”

“That’s none of your business, Imperial,” the driver responded in a less-than-agreeable tone.

_Not clever_ , Arven thought. The soldier’s expression darkened upon hearing that reply, his hand coming to rest on the pommel of his blade.

“I only ask due to the reports of bandits in the area as of late. It’s early, and I wouldn’t want innocent citizens to be harmed,” the soldier said. His voice was still calm, but there was a clear indication that he was making an effort to keep it that way.

“Oh? Bandits?” The driver asked. “Or other soldiers like yourself?”

_Oh, that’s really not clever._

Before the situation got any worse Arven hopped off the back of the carriage and approached the soldier. He took his helmet off as he did so. The soldier instantly braced up.

“Sir! I didn’t realise that was you, Dragonborn,” the soldier said.

_Oh god, why did you say that,_ Arven thought.

“What, Dragonborn? _You’re_ the Dragonborn?!” The driver said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

“Sorry for the trouble, we’re just passing through to Rorikstead,” Arven said. He kept a soft smile on his face, but he wanted to clip the soldier over the head.

The soldier nodded, stepping off to the side. “Of course, sir. Please be on your guard though, there have been reports of people going missing recently.”

_Well, that’s never good._

As the carriage got moving once more Arven waited for it to catch up, and when alongside it he climbed back on. The _second_ he sat back down the carriage driver turned to him, an expression on his face similar to that of a fascinated child.

“Are you _really_ the Dragonborn? Why didn’t you tell me?” The driver asked. Arven just let out a long, deep sigh. Walking all of a sudden became a seriously viable option. He looked over to Serana, but she was still watching the scenery. She was being worryingly quiet, now that Arven thought about it.

“Can you shout for me?” The driver asked. With the way he was looking at Arven, the Imperial knew that this topic wasn’t going to be dropped anytime soon. Just as he got ready to respond, Serana reached out with a hand and placed it on the forearm of the driver.

A moment later, after a look of confusion, the driver turned back to the road and dropped the subject entirely. Not another word came out of his mouth. Arven blinked a few times in disbelief before he realised what happened. His instinct was to feel anger, he hated seeing anyone be manipulated by a vampire no matter the circumstances.

On second thought, and after seeing the expression on Serana’s face though he decided against it. Instead he just mouthed a silent “thank-you” to the woman.

Serana didn’t respond, but her expression lightened ever so slightly.

A few hours later and Rorikstead was finally in sight. The rest of the trip was just as silent. Arven wasn’t sure how strong the magic Serana used was, but the driver didn’t speak another word. Besides having a short meal Arven was content to simply relax and enjoy the scenery.

“Looks like we’re getting close now. Rorikstead is only a few minutes away,” the driver said.

Arven sat up straight on his seat, stretching his upper half as he looked over to the town. He’d only been there a few times, but he didn’t mind the place. The walk to Dragon Bridge could most likely done in the afternoon as well.

Just as he relaxed back into his seat to enjoy the last few minutes of being off of his feet, his heart-rate spiked in an _instant_. His breathing increased rapidly, almost to the point of hyperventilating. A cold sweat broke out under his helmet. A second later Serana noticed as she could hear the pounding of his heart. She looked at him with a worried, confused look, but a moment later she understood.

The roar of a dragon echoed throughout the valley. Off in the distance, men and women walking around Rorikstead froze in panic before they came to their senses and scrambled to get indoors. Guards ran for cover as they scanned the sky, bows held at the ready. The driver of the carriage had gone pale and he pulled up, his horse whinnying and trying to pull the carriage away from the source of the noise though it just ended up confused by the repeated echoing.

Serana looked to Arven. He was sitting on the spot, deathly still except for his head which was tracking the beast in the air. He’d seen it a decent distance away as it circled around. For a moment, it looked like it was heading towards Rorikstead but it slowly banked away to once side.

_Fly away, fly away, fly away…_

Just as the beast seemed like it was going to return to the mountains, it banked once more and headed _directly_ for Rorikstead.

_Shit._

All the pent-up energy in his body exploded in an instant. Arven vaulted over the carriage, passing the driver as he began to sprint directly towards the town. It was still a couple kilometres away, but he could close that distance faster than the carriage would.

Serana was stunned for a moment but she quickly followed. She seemed faster than Arven on foot but just as she was about to catch him, he tripled the distance between them in a second.

_“Wuld nah kest!”_

The warrior jumped forward in a blinding burst of speed. He felt the wind rushing past him with enough force to knock a regular man clean off of their feet, but he powered through as if it was nothing. The dragon was still getting closer to the town at a rate much faster than Arven was though and guards had drawn their bows, all aimed at the monster. Now that he could get a closer look at the thing Arven cursed to himself once more. It was _huge,_ an ancient dragon.

With his shield on his back and sword at his side he held an arm out as magics began to swirl around his extended fingers. A few seconds later a shadowy, ethereal bow had formed in his grasp. Conjuration magic wasn’t a strong-point for him but he knew enough to get by, and after figuring out that fighting dragons was going to be some-what common Arven decided that he’d need a reliable way of fighting the beasts at range.

He watched the first volley of arrows launch towards the dragon from the town. Most missed and the majority of the ones that hit bounced off of its scales. One or two stuck in its wings but none of them did any serious damage.

The beast shouted. Flames erupted from its maw, a line of fiery destruction decimating the ground beneath it as it flew over a house and several guards. Most managed to get out of the way but one or two were caught in the inferno. They flailed for a moment before collapsing to the ground, helmets melted onto their faces.

As soon as he was within range Arven pulled up, planting his feet as he knocked an arrow. The bow he conjured was incredibly tough to draw on purpose. He needed something with enough force to pierce scales. With a grunt he managed to draw the string all the way before letting loose. The conjured arrow shot towards the dragon in the blink of an eye, tearing a patch through its wing before continuing on into the distance.

As soon as the first arrow hit Arven had already let another one loose. This time he was more successful, the barbed arrow head striking the dragon in the chest. The beast roared, a deafening sound cascading over the hills as it looked to the source of its pain.

_Come on you scaly fuck, get over here._

Behind him Serana was still sprinting to catch up. She was struggling, the sun beaming down on her with its full strength. Out of any time that a dragon could attack, it did so at noon. With one hand holding her hood in place she finally managed to get in range to throw a bolt of lightning towards the dragon. It struck it on the leg, scales flying off as the beast struggled to maintain a straight flight path towards Arven.

She cursed. If it was night time she’d be able to fire off multiple spells in seconds, but right now she was seriously struggling. Not to mention, it had been days since she’d fed – primarily not to make Arven uncomfortable.

As the dragon flew closer it had arrows from the guards bouncing off of its hide and tail. A couple managed to stick but they didn’t pierce in deep enough to hurt. Arven’s arrows had more luck. Two more were now sticking out of the shoulders of the dragon, but it seemed more _pissed_ than anything. Soon another torrent of fire was scorching the land, burning in a straight line aimed directly at Arven.

Arven got ready to shout once more.

_“Fus ro dah!”_

The sheer _force_ projected by his voice was enough to knock the flames away. Embers landed all across the plains, starting small fires of their own but that was an issue that could be handled after the damn thing was dead. As soon as he had a clear shot with the Dragon almost on top of him, Arven fired off one more arrow. It struck the Dragon in the neck, sinking a good foot into the flesh of the cursed thing.

A cry of pain replaced the previous roar that the dragon had let out as it came crashing to the ground, blood spilling out of its mouth and neck at an alarming rate.

Letting his bow dissipate into nothing Arven then drew his sword and shield, charging the dragon from behind as he got ready to climb on its back and slay the damn thing. Just as he was about to reach it though he stopped dead in his tracks. Fear shot through him. He dropped his sword, the metal clanging on a rock by his feet as he turned around.

_Another_ deafening roar came at him as a dragon even bigger than the first was flying towards him. A gigantic, black beast. A legendary dragon.

It opened its mouth, a terrifying noise shortly following.

_“Gaan lah hass!”_

Instantly Arven felt all the energy leave his body. His knees quaked beneath him and he shortly fell, one hand on the floor to support his body as his breath struggled to reach his lungs. All the vitality in him was almost gone and his vision was _swimming_. The legendary dragon flew directly overhead, slowly banking around to come back for another shot.

“Arven, look out!”

Serana’s voice came too late. Despite being wounded the downed dragon was still very much alive. Its tail swiped across, hitting Arven in his side before it sent him flying across the plains. The man rolled and tumbled across grass and stone, a loud sickening _snap_ coming from his left arm before he finally came to a rest.

While some of the guards had been coming to help, with the addition of a second dragon they’d all fled. They knew they couldn’t help. Serana and Arven were the only two people outside, alone to face the wrath of two fully grown, deadly dragons.

While Arven struggled to regain some sense of direction the legendary dragon was coming right at him. Before it could pick his body up in its talons Serana just managed to intervene, throwing several ice shards at it. A flurry of ice followed by deathly cold winds battered the dragon from the side, its wing having parts of it encased in ice as it struggled to fly away from the source of the sudden pain it felt.

With his heart pounding in his ears and unable to feel his left arm Arven got to his feet as quickly as he could. He tried to move his left arm and got no response. Not only that but he couldn’t see his sword, the blade being lost in the grass a good 20 or so metres away from where he was currently standing.

_Can’t shoot, only have one arm. No sword, no shield._ Fuck _I hate these shits._

The ancient dragon was slowly stomping towards him despite the blood still dripping from its neck and it looked incredibly angry. Not only that, but the legendary dragon had banked around and was coming straight at him while doing its best to drown Serana in flames on its way. Arven wasn’t even sure if she could survive that, but he could barely see a shield of ice only a few inches away from Serana as she extended her arms in a desperate attempt to ward off the heat.

The Dragonborn wasn’t sure _how_ he could survive this, but despite the terror he felt he wasn’t going to give up. He wasn’t going to sentence Rorikstead to a terrible death.

Inhaling deeply, he looked straight at the legendary dragon as his good hand began to coalesce magics once more.

_“Joor zah frul!”_

His voice boomed across the landscape. Trees around him shook with the grass flowing away from his body as if a bomb had gone off at his feet. His ears had a terrible ringing noise in them afterwards and his throat ached, with almost all of his energy being sapped out of him. It worked, though.

The ancient dragon instantly collapsed to the floor, stopped in its tracks while the legendary one struggled to flap its wings as it started to plummet. It hit the ground with a thundering crash, pulling up roots and dirt in its wake as it slid to a slow stop some distance behind the ancient one.

By the time both dragons had come to a halt, Arven had a sword in his right hand. It wasn’t anywhere near as strong as Dawnbreaker, but it’d have to do. With a scream he charged at the ancient dragon, his left arm flailing in the wind behind him as he closed the distance. By the time he’d reached the beast it had gotten to its feet once more and it snapped at him – trying to crush Arven’s body between its jaws. The Dragonborn fell to the floor just in time, sliding underneath its skull before slashing out. He felt the blade sever tendons and muscle as it opened a gaping wound in its neck, all of its life force spilling out onto the grass. While it still had energy left in its body the dragon tried to stomp on Arven with a clawed foot but instead it found the conjured sword jammed directly into the sole of its foot. A terrible scream accented by the gurgling of blood came from the animal as Arven rolled to the side, struggling to get to his feet in time before he had a dragon collapse on him.

With no sword and not enough magicka left to conjure a new one, all he could do was run directly at the second dragon.

Off to the side Serana was struggling to stand to her feet. She was alive, but she was just as drained. Surviving the flames of a dragon in the middle of the day had taken every ounce of strength she had and her fingers were left numb with a thin layer of ice running up her forearms. She tried to take slow steps towards Arven, but fell to her knees shortly after.

As Arven got close to the dragon he took off his helmet, waiting. The second he saw the beast open its maw, heat beginning to pool in the back of its mouth Arven threw his helmet as hard as he could. It went directly into the black pit that was the dragon’s throat, causing it to momentarily choke. It was a small diversion but it was enough to stop any flames from burning him alive until he got closer

Then, as soon as he could, with the dragon opening wide to take a bite out of him the Dragonborn jumped _into_ the mouth of the beast!

Planting both feet on the ridges of its mouth he used his good hand to catch hold of one of the many long fangs looming overhead. He struggled to maintain a good position as the dragon writhed about but he somehow managed. He only had seconds though as he could feel the heat gathering only feet away from him, flames beginning to spark in the depths of the dragon’s throat.

Using the last of his strength Arven planted his feet and he _heaved_. Pulling on that fang, a desperate scream erupted from his lips until he managed to tear the fang free from the mouth of the dragon, turning it around in his hand before he thrust it directly into the roof of the beast’s mouth.

A terrible scream came directly at him, one of shock and pain. He stabbed with the fang again, and again, blood pouring over his face as he caused as much damage as he could. Then with one final attack he reached down into the throat of the dragon, shoving the fang in deep before _pulling_ it back towards him tearing flesh and bone along the way.

From the outside Serana could only look on in sheer horror. She didn’t have a clear view of the inside of the dragon’s mouth, but the screams coming from it and the man it had in its jaws was enough to make _her_ skin crawl.

After a few more seconds of screaming, flailing and thrashing about, the dragon collapsed. Serana got to her feet as quickly as she could, part hobbling and part running over to see if Arven had survived. Before she could get there though the man crawled out the side of the dragon’s mouth then proceeded to collapse against it. He was drenched in blood, eyes wide with shock and hyperventilating.

Coming to her knees before him Serana held Arven’s cheeks in her hands, trying to look him in the eye. He just stared right through her, his chest rising and falling over and over every second.

“Arven, Arven! You need to calm down or you’ll pass out!” Serana said, almost yelling as she tried to get through to him. There was no response though. He was looking around, frantically, pupils wide with terribly cold skin.

“ _Arven!_ ” Still no response.

_Shit, he might hate me for this,_ she thought.

Holding onto his head with both hands she tried her best to force him to look at her. Then, she charmed him with as powerful a spell as she could conjure. Almost instantly Arven’s heartrate plummeted. His breathing returned to normal, and instead of staring into the distance he just looked at her with glazed over eyes.

After holding the spell for a short while, she released it. The life came back to his eyes and his breathing began to increase once more, but not to the level it was at previously. Looking around, Arven had to push Serana away before he crawled onto all fours and threw up all over the floor, food and bile burning his throat as it came up.

Serana crouched beside him, rubbing his back while gently speaking to the man.

“It’s alright, Arven. It’s over. You’re safe.” She kept repeating ‘you’re safe’ to him until finally he seemed calm, sitting back on his behind with his legs sprawled out before him, his left arm hanging limply at his side.

He looked at her, knowing full well what she’d done. “Thank you, Serana.”

Serana let a gentle smile cross her lips. “You’re most welcome.”

Unfortunately Arven didn’t have time to relax as a terribly familiar feeling came to his gut. He clenched over.

“Oh Gods, I hate this part,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Hate what?” Serana asked, slightly panicked. “Are you okay?”

Arven nodded. “Yeah, fine. Just give it a minute.”

 Before Serana could ask any further questions she noticed that the dragon behind Arven was disintegrating into the air, a beautiful display of lights and magicka beginning to swirl around the human in front of her. It was coming from the other dragon at the same time, a fantastic whirlwind of colour that left each beast bare down to its bones.

The energy swirled around Arven over and over until it was eventually absorbed into his body. As it was he took in a deep, long breath, vitality coming back to him as the power of each dragon became his own.

Serana stood up, her expression one of shock and awe as she tried to comprehend what just happened.

“Gods. You really are, aren’t you… D-“

“Don’t you fucking say it,” Arven interjected.

“What?” Serana asked, confused.

“Dragonborn. Don’t you dare call me that. Say that word and I’ll slap you with my dead arm.”

Serana paused for a moment. Then she burst out laughing, her hands on her knees as tears came to her eyes. It was entirely ridiculous but after that fight it felt _good_.

_Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up,_ Arven thought.

Pushing himself to his feet, Arven turned around to see a large group of guards, men, women and children running towards him. There was a loud cheer coming from them all, looks of joy and relief clear on their faces.

“Praise the Dragonborn!” One called out.

“Dragonslayer!”

“Hero!”

More and more words of praise came at him. It was the only part of the job he liked, seeing those he saved. Two guards approached him at the sides and lifted him to his feet, supporting him. One tried to take his broken arm but a cry of pain stopped them instantly. Surprisingly, a priest pushed their way through the crowd and immediately started to tend to his wounds. The relief was instant, and Arven let out a weak thank-you.

A few guards went to Serana but she quickly turned them all away, saying she was fine. She was, after all, just tired.

___

Some hours later Serana and Arven sat in the corner of the Rorikstead inn. Music was playing and ale was flowing for everyone. Arven had bandages all over his left arm and his head – he’d gotten a few cuts after being flung across the ground by the tail of the first dragon.

Men and women took their turns standing up to thank Arven for what he’d done. He had tried to stop the speeches, but after seeing how happy it made some of the townsfolk he didn’t have the heart to interject. While they started out coherent, as more and more ale was consumed many ‘speeches’ turned into messes of slurred words and cheers.

Arven even had more than one woman propose, shockingly. One was more subtle, wearing an amulet of Mara while making sure it was in plain view as she struck up a conversation about wanting to see the world while another had simply come up and _demanded_ that he marry her. She was very, very drunk. Each time Serana ended up turning them away, much to their disappointment. One of them asked Serana if she’d already taken Arven, to which the vampire responded by hurrying them out the door.

He wasn’t much of a drinker normally, but after a day like that Arven couldn’t resist having a few ales. Nothing excessive but just enough to let him relax, and to reduce the dull throbbing pain throughout his entire body.

“How’re you feeling?” Serana asked after dragging her chair closer to Arven. She had to speak up to be heard, considering just how loud the inn had gotten.

“Like absolute hell,” Arven said, smiling. “How about yourself? I saw you get roasted at one point, honestly wasn’t sure if you’d walk out of that.”

“Oh please, I’m fine. Figures something like this would happen in the middle of the day, though,” Serana said.

“Yeah. Not really the best timing. At least the damage to the town was minimal.”

Serana nodded. “You saved a lot of people today, Arven. They’re all incredibly appreciative.”

Arven didn’t respond, his head towards the floor as he held his mug in his right. He had a gentle smile on his lips but the memories were still incredibly fresh in his head making it hard for him to relax.

“Some of them more-so than others…” Serana continued as she motioned to a woman on the other side of the inn, a particularly busty Nord who hadn’t taken her eyes off of Arven all night long. The woman was twirling her hair around her finger as she gave the Dragonborn an uncomfortably intense stare.

_Nine Divines have mercy,_ Arven thought to himself. After a moment he slowly pushed himself to his feet with a few soft groans of discomfort.

“I think it’s time I retired for the night,” he said.

“With or without your friend over there?” Serana asked, still observing the Nord in the corner.

“Without,” Arven replied. “Definitely without.”

The two walked over to the innkeeper who was frantically trying to keep up with everyone’s orders. Despite the celebrations being centred around Arven, everyone had gotten so drunk that they hardly noticed him moving away.

“Evenin,” Arven called to the man who didn’t notice them until the last second.

“Oh! Dragonborn, what can I do for you?” The man responded, causing Arven to flinch.

“Two rooms, if possible. It’s been a long day.”

The man thought to himself, scratching the thinning hair on his head for a moment. “Don’t have two, the place is almost booked. Got a single room with two beds, though,” he said.

Serana clicked her tongue, but just as she was about to suggest they look somewhere else, Arven spoke up. “That’s perfect, thanks.”

Serana was slightly surprised but she followed along, the two of them entering the room with the music and celebrations only getting marginally quieter in their accommodation. After he’d locked the door behind him Arven sat down on his bed. It was uncomfortable as anything, but at that moment it felt like heaven.

“Hey, are you going to be able to sleep like this?” Serana asked as she stood awkwardly in the corner.

Arven looked up. “What do you mean?”

“Me, in the same room. You know, the whole trust thing – which I get, I do, just-“

“It’s fine, Serana.” Arven said. He took a long, deep breath before he spoke any further. The voice in his head screaming at him not to trust the woman was still there, but it was _much_ weaker than before. “I trust you. And thank you, again. I’m pretty sure you saved me twice today.”

The second Arven’s head hit his pillow he was out. He didn’t even bother removing his boots or gauntlets, lying on his back with his left arm in a make-shift sling.

Serana stood still, shocked as she processed what Arven had just said. She thought she must’ve heard wrong, but it was hard to argue with the sight of the vampire hunter willingly sleeping defenceless in the presence of a vampire lord.

Taking care not to wake him she sat down on the bed on the opposite side of the room, kicking her boots off before lying back and relaxing. She was almost just as drained as Arven was, and sleep came rushing up to greet her. Just before she dozed off Serana wiped her eye while she found herself unable to remove the smile that’d been stuck onto her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Told you all there'd be a bit more action this time! As always I hope you've all enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Full on action-scenes with Dragons is definitely new territory for me, so any feedback is more than welcome and appreciated! :)


	6. Chapter 6

Arven slowly woke with a soft grumble as the light entered his eyes. He felt heavy. Very, very heavy for some reason. Rubbing his eyes as he let out the groan of a man who just wanted to sleep in, he removed his hands to find that Serana was looking down at him. She was straddling his waist with her hands on his chest. No wonder he felt so heavy.

_Wait. What?_

“…Serana? What are you doing?”

In response the woman just smiled. It was a different smile than what Arven had gotten used to though. It wasn’t innocent, nor was it sweet. It was… _expecting._ She had a thirst in her eyes, a look that Arven had seen a few times before in the eyes of a vampire just before he killed them.

His heart-rate spiked. Arven tried to sit up but Serana’s strength was _overwhelming_ and he couldn’t budge. Not even one inch.

“Serana…”

“Sorry, Arven,” Serana said without a hint of remorse in her voice. Her lips curled further back into an almost sadistic smile, one that made Arven incredibly uncomfortable. “It’s nothing personal, I promise. A girl just needs to feed, and, well… I’ve always been attracted to powerful blood.”

_See?_ The voice in his head called out. _You knew this would happen. All vampires are the same._

As Serana came closer, opening her mouth with her fangs protruding out Arven coalesced as much restorative magic in his hand as he could. He shoved it against Serana’s torso with a shout. The spell singed her body on contact causing the vampire to flinch backwards with a _hiss._

While she recoiled Arven tried to summon an ethereal blade in his hand to drive through the woman, but she was too fast. Serana instantly responded by summoning a sharp sickle of ice in one hand, driving it right through Arven’s palm and pinning the hand to his own bed.

Letting out a sharp cry of pain he opened his mouth, ready to shout as a last resort. He just wasn’t fast enough. Serana stuck at him with a closed fist, breaking his nose and causing his head to rebound back against his bed. With his vision blurred and pain searing in his face and hand, Arven couldn’t stop Serana as she sunk her fangs into his neck.

Arven woke, rather violently. He sprung up in his bed, sweat beading from his forehead and dripping from his nose as he struggled to catch his breath. He was fine. There was no ice piercing his hand, and his nose was in one piece. Well, it was still broken. It’d been broken numerous times before, but Serana hadn’t added another to that count.

As he woke, he turned to find Serana looking at him with a concerned expression. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, leaning towards him as if she wanted to come closer – but she restrained herself. The look on her face was entirely different than it was in his dream. It showed genuine care, as far as he could tell.

“Arven?” She asked. “Are you okay?”

Arven just nodded, reaching up to wipe the sweat from his brow. He unconsciously did so with the arm that was in the sling, but it caused him no pain. His bones seemed to be fully healed.

 “Uh, I think you’re meant to let that rest for a bit longer,” Serana said.

Arven smirked, consciously trying to make the smile more visible as he didn’t want Serana to worry. He didn’t even want to look at her for the moment. The rational part of his brain knew she wasn’t going to attack him. After all, she saved him the day before.

_I’m not going to get over a life time of fear that easily,_ he thought.

“It’s fine. I heal pretty quick. One of the perks, I guess,” he said as he removed the sling and dropped it off the side of his bed. He stretched out his arm, rolling his shoulder to make sure it was fully recovered. Slightly tender, but fine.

Serana nodded in response, but she still seemed worried. After a pause, she spoke up.

“Nightmare?”

Arven just nodded, and Serana offered him a sweet, surprisingly comforting smile.

“I can sympathise,” she continued. “Do you want to sleep some more? I can’t imagine you’re well rested after that.”

As Arven had calmed down he looked around, taking in his surroundings. He’d passed out almost instantly the night before, so it was the first chance he had to look at this room. It was fairly small, with a few steps between his bed and Serana’s. Besides the two beds each had a chest at their base and a small table sat in the corner of the room with two chairs. Behind both beds was a window, with curtains keeping the light out.

Looking over to Serana she had shuffled back on her bed, legs up by her chest with a small book in her hands. It must’ve been another one from Fort Dawnguard that she’d picked up.

“What time is it?” Arven asked

“Not sure, I haven’t really checked.”

“…How long have you been awake?”

Serana tilted her head off to one side as she sat in thought. “Maybe a couple of hours?”

Arven let out a defeated sigh before looking out the curtain. Bright sunlight reached him and entered the room, causing Serana to pull back ever so slightly. Rearranging the curtains so he could only see out and the light didn’t get too far in, he tried to find the Sun.

“Serana… It’s noon.”

Serana just looked at him, frowning. “You’re saying that like it’s meant to mean something.”

“It is. We could almost be at Dragon Bridge by now, if I didn’t sleep in.”

“So? You were exhausted, and we’re in no huge rush.”

Arven dead-panned, staring at Serana who seemed entirely nonchalant about the entire thing.

“No rush? We’re trying to stop your father, remember? The guy who wants to control the Sun?”

“…Yeah, and he needs our Elder Scroll for that,” Serana said, motioning to the scroll which she had casually placed on the table as if it were any other, ordinary item.

Arven ran his hands through his hair. He almost felt like he was dealing with a child.

“Did you _actually_ leave that there overnight, while we both slept?”

By now Serana had gone back to her book seeming uninterested in their current conversation. “Yep.”

“Didn’t think someone might try and steal it?”

“No one can see it on me. Illusion magic, remember? Besides I’m a light sleeper, if anyone tried to sneak in, I’d know.” Closing her book again she looked over at Arven with a kind smile. “Go back to sleep. I know you heal fast, but you’re probably more exhausted than you think.”

Arven hesitated. Whenever he paused for a moment, he could feel his exhaustion, rolling over him like a wave that wanted to drag him down. He just hated being still. Even more, he didn’t want that dream to return. Seeing Serana like that terrified him.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Serana said as she rested her chin on her knees, looking over to Arven. “Lie back down. If you can stay awake for _one_ minute, we’ll get going.”

Arven looked at her, rolling his eyes.

_One minute? Seriously?_

Scoffing to himself he resigned to lying back down, willing to play her little game. While it was nice, admittedly, to have someone care about his wellbeing like this he didn’t want to be cared for. He wanted to be moving, hunting vampires. Making a difference.

10 seconds after his head hit the pillow, Arven was out.

“Some tough Dragonborn you are,” Serana whispered to herself as she struggled not to laugh. Watching over Arven for a moment, she put her book down and walked over. Taking the sheets that were only halfway up his body she pulled them up, gently tucking him in before walking back over to her bed and resuming her book. Every few seconds she’d glance over, making sure he wasn’t having another nightmare.

___

When Arven woke again it in a much more relaxed fashion compared to before. His eyes slowly opened, scanning the now dark room for familiar objects to orientate himself with as he shook himself out of a daze. He was surprisingly refreshed, all things considered. There were only the most minor aches in his body which he didn’t even notice unless he made an effort to focus on them.

As he waited for his eyes to adjust, he realised that it was just really, _really_ dark. He sat up and stretched out with a slight groan, causing a small rustling sound to appear on the other side of his room.

“Oh, you’re awake?” Serana said. Arven couldn’t even see her, despite the room being fairly small.

Arven groaned in response, rolling his neck to let out a satisfying crack. “How long was I asleep for?” He asked.

Serana idly hummed to herself for a moment before responding. “12 hours, maybe?”

“You’re joking, right?” Arven asked, running his hands through his hair, still trying to wake up properly.

There was a moment of silence before Serana responded. “If you can’t see, I’m shaking my head while judging you.”

Arven rolled his eyes. He stood up, getting out of bed and peering out through the window. After confirming that no sunlight would come through, he opened the blinds to let what little moonlight there was into the room.

“You couldn’t wake up at dawn or something? That’d be much more convenient,” Serana said.

“Not like I can control it.” Arven replied. “Besides, it’s not really an issue. We can just walk at night.”

Serana perked up at that. “Really?”

“Don’t see why not. It’ll make it easier if we get attacked again, you might actually be useful.” Arven said. Serana let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Alright, do you want to head off now, then?” Serana said.

“Give me 15 minutes.”

__

A minute later, after taking a loaf of bread from the inn Arven was strolling barefoot out to a river behind the building. He had left his armour in the room while he found his way to the calm stream, discarding what was left of his clothing except his undergarments before halting an inch before the stream. The water was calm enough that he could see his reflection and he studied it for a moment.

Ever since he started absorbing the souls of dragons his physique had changed. He’d always been fit, but over time all the fat on his body had evaporated, giving room to trained muscle. While he kept an athletic figure, he was strong, and without armour in the way it was painfully obvious.

It was fitting of course. He’d become far, far stronger than any regular person. The souls he had within him were one of the main reasons he hadn’t died yet. They gave him the strength to fight off vampires that could toss a mortal man to the side in an instant. That’s not to say he was invincible; he knew that certain creatures could potentially overpower him. A Vampire Lord, for example.

As his reflection distorted in the stream he stepped forward, letting his feet into the water before lowering his body until only his head was above the water-line.

The water was freezing, but he had a handy trick. Taking a deep breath and reciting the Dragon language for the word fire, _Yol_ , water started to steam off of his body. He turned the river into something closer to a hot spring as he relaxed and tried his best to clear his mind, looking up to the lights in the sky.

He had heard of the sky-lights before, but he never saw them until coming to Skyrim. Cyrodiil wasn’t blessed enough to see such a beautiful sight, it seemed. As the lights danced in the night sky, bright stars illuminated behind them, Arven let his body sink just a little bit lower until his entire figure was submerged. The hot water cleansed his skin, washing away the dirt and grime that had built up over the last few days and weeks.

Standing up, he ran his hands through his hair and started to clean himself. It was oddly relaxing, and feeling clean was a luxury he wasn’t able to enjoy much as of late. Not to mention, a moment of privacy was pure bliss.

Of course, privacy never lasted for Arven much anymore.

“Here you are. I was wondering where you’d run off to,” Serana asked as she sat down cross-legged a few metres away from the stream.

Arven paused after becoming aware of the fact that Serana was staring at him. After a moment of consideration though he decided he simply didn’t care. He had his modesty still, and she was invading _his_ privacy. If anyone was to be embarrassed, it was her.

“Trying to get a moment of quiet before we set off,” Arven said as he began to stretch in the warmth of the water. Every muscle in his body seemed to be thanking him as the tension left him.

“Oh,” Serana replied bluntly. “Want me to head back?”

“No, it’s fine,” Arven replied. “I was just about to get out anyway.” He wasn’t lying, but he might’ve stayed in for another minute if left alone. Walking out of the river he let out another deep breath, chanting the Dragon language again. As he did all the water on his body evaporated almost instantly, leaving his skin completely dry with only a slight amount of moisture clinging to his hair.

Serana at least had the decency to turn around as he threw his clothes back on.

“You know, we can wait until morning to leave,” Serana said.

“Why? Unless you’re tired, we should just go now,” Arven said as he pulled his shirt over his head.

Serana shook her head. “I’m fine, but you remember we’re hunting vampires, right?”

Arven nodded, and Serana pointed to the sky. “See an issue?”

“Nope,” Arven responded.

“If we run into them, it’ll be a much tougher fight at night, just in case you weren’t aware Mr. Vampire Hunter.”

“Tell me, besides your father are there any other Vampire lords?”

Serana tilted her head to the side. “Well, maybe somewhere else in Tamriel-“

“I mean here. Associated with Castle Volkihar.”

“No, just my family.”

“And your father isn’t the type to do his own work, from what I can tell, right?”

“No way. He’s not leaving that Castle unless he’s won.”

“So, nothing to worry about. In the day I’m stronger than they are and at night you are. We win both ways.”

Serana just sighed. It felt nice that he trusted her, but it still would’ve likely been safer during the day.

“Fine, as long as you’re sure,” she said.

Arven walked past her, turning to her to give the woman a brief smile. “I am.”

After getting clothed, taking some more food from the inn and leaving his payment on the main counter, the two of them continued towards Dragon Bridge. It wasn’t far, and Arven guessed they’d be there before the Sun started to rise.

“Who knows, with any luck we might run into the Dragon Priest before we even get there,” the Imperial said.

“In the middle of the night? Don’t think anyone else is crazy enough to go travelling at this time,” Serana said.

Arven shrugged. “He’s crazy enough to read Elder Scrolls. This isn’t a stretch.”

“Different kind of crazy.”

“Like, hanging out with a Vampire Lord crazy?”

Serana rolled her eyes, shoving Arven in the shoulder. “Yeah, that kind of crazy.”

Now that they were walking in the dark, Serana didn’t need to have her hood on. Arven found that awfully distracting. There was a soft breeze in their face, letting her hair flow behind her figure ever so slightly. Although they walked along side by side, Arven found himself occasionally taking a few steps back as he absent-mindedly looked over towards her.

He did it a few times before he properly caught himself, shaking his head and running a hand over his chest – right where his magic resistant charm was. It wasn’t any magical charm that was compelling him, it was just reassuring for the warrior to think so. The idea that her magics led to his attraction was more comfortable than the idea that he simply found her attractive.

Despite his rather obvious gaze, Serana never noticed. At least she didn’t act like she did. Although Arven slowed himself on occasion to take a step or two back, after a few moments Serana matched his pace. Before long they were travelling at half the speed they were before, nothing more than a leisurely walk.

“Hey, Serana,” he called out.

She perked up, her eyes widening slightly as she looked over to him. “Hmm? What’s up?”

“Did you get enough sleep? You’re kind of zoning out.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” She waved him away, taking a few steps forward after realising just how slow they were moving.

“You sure? You seem distracted.”

“Just daydreaming, that’s all. Wondering what it’d be like to travel with someone who’s actually funny, charming. Handsome. Never really experienced that.” She looked over to him with a cocky smile, while Arven just rolled his eyes with a groan.

Arven found that as long as he didn’t slow down, Serana didn’t either. He still felt like something was up but he didn’t push it any further. Instead he just enjoyed the quiet of the night. He missed the warmth of the sun that came with travelling during the day, but the night had its own perks.

The Imperial kept coming back to staring at the lights in the sky. The way they danced through the air entranced him, and he couldn’t stop a smile from crossing his lips. He almost tripped once or twice, but he didn’t let that stop him.

While the view was gorgeous, as the road started to get less well paved further away from the town he found himself tripping up more often. With his helmet on he had no peripheral vision, making it too easy for him to stumble. There was really no reason for Arven to be fully armoured so he chose to remove the bulky helm. It normally fit his head fine, but after fighting the dragons it had come slightly deformed. Still fine to wear, but it certainly wasn’t brand new anymore. As he lifted it a small sharp piece of metal that had formed from a crack scraped against his neck, slicing the skin over a few centimetres just enough to let some blood start to drip down.

Cursing to himself he finished removing his helm before going to take off his gauntlet so he could wipe away the blood, but before he could he saw Serana staring at him. She was no longer spaced out. Her eyes were insanely focused, and she seemed more alert than she ever had been.

She seemed incredibly intimidating in that moment, but she seemed to break herself out of it, turning away and hurrying off ahead of Arven.

A terrible feeling started to rise in the Imperial’s stomach.

With his hand free of his gauntlet he placed his fingers across the cut and jogged to catch up to Serana. As he got closer, she increased her stride to maintain a certain distance between them.

“Serana,” he said. She didn’t respond. He felt the warm blood against his skin, sticking out against the cold air that cooled the rest of his neck and face. Letting the blood slowly drip from the wound he called out again in a sharper, louder voice.

“Serana. Wait.”

She turned around, looking off to the side and refusing to make eye contact. Her nostrils seemed to flare and her eyes were bright and intense. They were hungry.

“Serana…”

She mumbled something in response that he couldn’t hear.

“Serana, what’re you- “

“Clean your damn neck!” She almost shouted at him, making eye contact while clenching her hands in fists. Arven eyed her off, not moving from his position as the blood continued to drip.

“Just, please. Clean your neck already,” she continued looking back down. She almost sounded ashamed.

Eventually Arven did so. He let a soft golden glow cover his fingers as he ran them over the cut, sealing the wound while wiping away the blood. After his neck was clean, he didn’t move. Neither of them did.

He understood what was going on, now. He should’ve realised much earlier, but he didn’t.

“You’re starving,” he said.

She simply nodded.

“For how long?”

Serana shuffled her feet before looking up at Arven. Whether intentionally or not, her illusion faded for the briefest moment and her face became gaunter. Her eyes seemed to sink into her skull. She seemed like a shadow of her former self – a sickly, older version. She was still attractive, but the difference was shocking.

The illusion was only dropped for a second before Serana had it back up. “Hungry for days. Starving since the dragons.”

Arven closed his eyes at the mention of dragons, taking a deep breath. He was going to ask her why she didn’t speak up, but he knew why. She was trying to be considerate. Any normal vampire would’ve started showing the signs of hunger much earlier. Fresh vampires would’ve gone rabid, or feral. Not to mention, getting attacked by dragons would’ve drained most of Serana’s remaining strength. It was honestly a shock to Arven that she hadn’t collapsed, now that he thought about it.

The silence that fell over them was long and exceedingly uncomfortable. Arven knew what she needed to do, but he wasn’t going to say it.

“I need…” Serana started. She cut herself off, biting her lip. “You go on ahead, I’ll catch up by the time the sun rises.”

“What’re you going to do,” Arven demanded.

“Don’t make me say it,” Serana responded.

“What. Are you going to do?”

Serana shook her head. “There’s a small town nearby. I can smell them from here. I’ll be back before- “.

“ _No._ ”

Serana frowned, staring at Arven. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, no. You aren’t… I can’t let you attack innocent people,” Arven said through clenched teeth.

“ _Attack?_ Who said anything about _that?_ They won’t even know I’m there, I just need to feed and get out.”

“Can you do that?” He asked. He had words coming up, things he wanted to say. His instincts were taking over. He knew he shouldn’t lash out, but controlling himself was proving incredibly difficult. His gut was to protect anyone from being a victim of a vampire. He trusted Serana as a person, but the cautious side of him didn’t trust her as a Vampire Lord still.

“Of course I can!”

“Are you sure? Will you be satisfied with just one? You won’t feed on another, and another?”

“How _dare_ you! Of course I won’t!”

“Are you sure? What if you get caught? What if their partner, their family or their child walks in? What if they attack? What if you get caught in a fight and someone dies?”

“That won’t happen! I can just- “

Arven stepped closer. His voice was choking slightly and his eyes were wet with moisture. “What if you _fuck up_ , and the smell of blood drives you crazy? What if you turn into that _thing_ and before I know it, I’m down there trying to save some kid from becoming an orphan, watching his parents get torn a-fucking part!”

Serana took a step back, her eyes full of disbelief, shock and anger. The look in her eyes hurt Arven, but he knew he deserved that look. Despite his words he was the one that lacked control.

Without saying anything, Serana turned off and left into the woods. Her body dissipated into clouds, surging with the wind away from Arven in a blink of an eye. She’d normally tried to hide her vampiric powers from him, but that courtesy seemed to be gone now.

Arven was left wide-eyed in the middle of the road, stunned.

“Shit. _Shit!”_

__

Half an hour later and Arven was sprinting through the woods. He’d looked at his map the second he came to his senses, finding the nearest town. It wasn’t close by any stretch and he wasn’t sure if there was a smaller group of people that Serana had been talking about, but this was the only thing he had to go off.

He was getting closer to the town quickly, having shouted to let the wind surge at his back. There was no way to track Serana given how she travelled. Arven had a charm that warned him of undead around, but he was no where near skilled enough as a mage to sense them out, let alone at a distance. The charm didn’t seem to work on undead of Serana’s level either.

As he ran, he continually cursed himself underneath his helmet that he’d put on again. The worst-case scenario kept running through his mind. He was mentally preparing himself for it. What if Serana got to the town and fed? What if she _did_ lose control? What if her anger at him lead her to lash out against the people, and by the time he got to the village all he found was drained corpses and blood splattered across their houses?

He knew Serana would never do that. He knew she wasn’t just a mindless vampire. That didn’t stop the terrible images from filling his head though, and he ran with his sword drawn.

By the time he’d found the nearby town he was covered in sweat underneath his armour, but he didn’t notice. The Imperial came up on the crest of a hill that looked over a town, if you could even call it that. There were maybe 8 buildings all up, all relatively close together. It was deadly quiet except for the sounds of nature around him. No light came from the town. He couldn’t see any torches, enchanted lights or anything else. No signs of an attack, or at least no signs of a struggle.

After taking a few breaths he stepped forward, ready to climb down the hill to try and look for Serana, apologise, and try to stop her before she fed. Even though he knew she had to feed somehow, he didn’t want any innocent people being subject to a vampire.

Just as he stepped out, he heard Serana’s voice.

“Over here, idiot.”

He spun on his heel, finding the woman sitting on a tree stump with her forearms resting on her knees. She saw the blade in Arven’s hand and shook her head.

“Seriously? Put your fucking sword away.”

Arven looked at the weapon with a dumb expression before dropping it. He took a few steps towards Serana, but he stopped. He didn’t know what to say.

“I didn’t feed,” she said. Her eyes were the same as before. They still had that hunger to them.

 Arven nodded in an attempt to respond.

“They’re all safe. I’m not planning on going down there, no child is going to lose their parents.”

Arven swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I’m sorry vampires took your family, Arven.” She him in the eye. There was kindness in her eyes, but the hunger remained. It made Arven’s skin crawl, and reminded him that Serana _wasn’t_ fully human.

“That obvious, huh?”

“That’s some of the first real emotion I’ve seen from you. _Pretty_ obvious, yeah.” Arven just sighed in response. He wanted to say a lot, but he didn’t know to get the words out. Before he could respond Serana had moved over on the stump, tapping an empty spot next to her.

Hesitantly Arven walked over and took the offered seat. He took his helmet off, making sure not to scratch himself again and placed it down before letting his tense body relax. “Sorry, Serana.”

“It’s okay.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “So, now what?”

Arven turned to her and she met his eye.

“I can’t starve to death Arven,” she said, and Arven nodded. “I have to feed on someone eventually.”

“No,” Arven replied as bluntly as before. Serana recoiled, anger coming to her face again but before she could speak Arven held his hands up. “I’m not telling to starve, okay? I just… I’m sorry. I’d rather you drink someone who’s, well… _compliant_.”

“And how is that going to happen? I’m not just going to go around asking people if I can bite them.”

While Serana responded Arven started taking off his gauntlet, leaving his hand and part of his forearm bare. Then in a blink of an eye, he drew his dagger from his belt and sliced his arm, enough to let blood flow freely. He winced. It hurt, quite a bit.

Serana just stared at him in shock as he offered his arm.

“Are you _serious?”_ She said. Her eyes were absolutely wild and it took everything she had not to salivate. She was even fidgeting on the spot, incredibly uncomfortable.

“Yes. There’s no risk this way,” he said. He looked at her, moving his arm closer to her. “Just drink already.”

After another second’s hesitation Serana caught hold of his arm and latched her lips around the wound. She started to drink, heavily. Her skin turned a flushed red as she drunk and her eyes seemed to burst with colour while her grip grew stronger every time she swallowed. Arven couldn’t help but stare. Seeing the dignified, noble looking woman feeding like this was such a stark contrast.

After a second, Serana stopped. “Don’t look. It’s creepy.”

Rolling his eyes, Arven did as he was asked. He looked up at the night lights while the sounds of Serana feeding filled his ears. He felt _incredibly_ squeamish, but this was the best way to handle it.

Before he knew it Serana had finished. She pulled away and wiped her mouth, breathing out heavily. Taking his arm back and sealing the wound with a quick spell Arven couldn’t help but notice the change. There was an aura of strength around her now. She always seemed capable, but now she seemed as if she was above everyone else. Not in a cocky, or arrogant manner. Serana just seemed as if she could walk into any room in the world and demand the attention and respect of every person in attendance, regardless of who they were.

It reminded Arven of Harkon, in a less terrifying way.

Serana turned to him, offering him a gentle smile. Her eyes had returned to the way they normally were. She still let him see the true colour, but they seemed human again – despite the yellow iris.

“Sorry,” Arven said. “Don’t really know what to say after someone drinks your blood. Kind of new to this.”

Serana playfully hit him in the arm. It seriously hurt.

“Should we get going again?” Arven asked.

Serana didn’t respond. She just rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, looking up at the night lights. “In a moment. I’m truly sorry about what happened to your family, Arven. I’m always here if you want to talk about it.”

“Thank you,” Arven said, in more of a whisper than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! Sorry for the delay with this chapter, work has picked up recently and my free time has been cut down dramatically. I'm still working on it, but it might be longer between chapters from now on.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's commented or left kudos! It's incredibly motivating knowing you're all waiting to read what I've written next. I hope you've all enjoyed this chapter as well!


	7. Chapter 7

Arven frowned to himself, one hand idly rubbing over the fresh scar on his forearm. It was faint and he knew it’d heal within a day or two, so the scar itself didn’t bother him. Even though he knew it was the right thing to do, he just didn’t feel comfortable with helping a vampire feed. It was better than the alternative and that brought him some comfort, but the warrior couldn’t remove the gut feeling telling him it was wrong.

Serana reached out and pushed him lightly on the arm. “Arven, are you alright?”

The two were walking side by side. It was a few hours before dawn and they were getting much closer to their destination.

He nodded in response, looking over to her. “You seem a bit different.”

Serana shrugged. “No one’s at their best when they’re starving.”

Arven shook his head. “No, you’re… I don’t know how to say it. Intimidating?”

Serana frowned. She almost seemed slightly hurt.

“You find me intimidating?” She asked.

“No, of course not. You just seem more… powerful? You almost remind me of your father.”

Serana deadpanned. “You _really_ know how to flatter a woman, don’t you?” Her voice was almost seeping with a sarcastic venom.

“No, no I didn’t mean it like _that_.” Arven sighed.

“It’s fine, I understand what you’re getting at,” Serana replied. She flexed her hand, forming a fist over and over again. “I think it’s you.”

Arven blinked. “I… I don’t follow.”

“Well, vampires get their strength from blood, right?”

“Ah.” It clicked. Of course his blood would have some kind of effect on her, it was the entire reason for his own strength.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good. At first, even the taste was- “

“You don’t need to describe the taste,” Arven interrupted. “Please.”

“Sorry. I thought it was different, that I was just _really_ hungry but this… energy, hasn’t left me since.”

Arven didn’t know how to feel about it. It wasn’t a bad thing, he knew that. It just made his skin crawl.

“I could probably get addicted to you, Arven,” Serana said with a sly smile.

Arven was glad he had his helmet on as his cheeks turned red. He knew she was toying with him, but that didn’t lessen the effect of her words.

“You’re a bad person,” he said.

Serana laughed. “Oh please.”

“I know what you’re talking about though. I’m pretty sure it’s the same feeling as when I kill one of those things.”

“I thought you hated that?”

Arven nodded. “I do. I hate it because it makes me feel like I’m becoming more like them, though. _That’s_ what makes me feel sick. The strength though… it does feel good.”

“Just how much stronger are you now?” Serana asked. There was an almost childish curiosity behind her eyes, the deep yellow irises that stood out in the dim light of the moon.

“I’ve… never really thought about it,” Arven said. “When I fought my first dragon, I was out for a week because of my injuries. They didn’t think I’d fully heal. I’d basically lost all movement in one of my legs.”

As he spoke, he could almost feel a ghostly chill running through his left leg, directly where the beast had bitten straight through his flesh with one of its fangs.

“Now, I’m rarely out for more than a day,” he continued. “My armour feels like I’m just wearing regular clothing, my sword is almost like waving around a stick.”

“Doesn’t really sound like the worst thing in the world, if you ask me.”

Arven grimaced underneath his helmet. “I suppose. Still not strong enough, though.”

“Don’t tell me _you_ are power hungry. You’re not the type, I can tell,” Serana replied. She was staring at him, studying him as he spoke. It made him feel a little bit uneasy, but not enough that he’d say anything.

“No, but… I’m still weaker than some dragons, physically. I _know_ I’m not as strong as Harkon and I’m pretty confident you could beat me easily.”

“Really? You’ve never seemed afraid to take me on. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you had your sword out chasing me before.”

“Didn’t mean I thought I’d _win_ , but I wasn’t going to do nothing.”

Serana let a soft smile come to her lips. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad you’re the Dragonborn.”

As soon as she said it Arven tensed up, but Serana quickly placed her hand on his shoulder. He was calmed almost instantly. While he definitely hated the idea of being under the effects of her magic, this was one exception.

“Is this revenge for comparing you to your father?”

Serana chuckled. “No, I mean it. That kind of power could’ve gone to some terrible people. People who’d use it to control others, or rule over them. You, though. You just seem to want to help people.”

She smiled at him again, the infuriating kind of smile that left him lost for words. “I really admire that, Arven.”

The Imperial let out a deep breath. “You’re far too kind to be a vampire, you realise that yeah?”

Serana frowned before shoving him. “You ass.”

Arven grinned to himself beneath his helmet. “Still, I’m far from the strongest thing around. Not sure how much I can do against a master mage, either.”

“You seem to know a bit of magic, couldn’t you just work on that?”

Arven shook his head. “I’m _terrible_ at magic.”

“Uh, you seem to know at least some. Your conjuration is pretty decent, at least, and you’re not a half-bad healer.”

Arven raised a hand, waving his gauntlet around. “Enchanted gloves. Without these my conjuration is… not good.”

“Really? That’s, pretty surprising honestly.”

Arven shrugged. “I can fight and I can yell, but that’s about it.”

“Can you show me?”

Arven blinked beneath his helmet. “Show you… what, exactly?”

“Your conjuration magic, without your gauntlets.”

“Sure, but… why?”

“I’m curious.”

Arven rolled his eyes. It didn’t hurt, and it killed a bit more time so he didn’t really mind. Undoing the straps on one of his gauntlets he slid it off, hanging it from his belt as he wriggled his fingers. Concentrating on letting the magicka flow to his fingers after a few moments a ball of ethereal magic was running around his exposed hand. It started to form a shape, extending out into a sword. It was working but at a much, much slower pace than it had when he was fighting the dragon.

The shadows extended, tendrils reaching out into the air to form a solid shape as the mist-like substance took on a more rigid form. By the time it was finished he was gripping the handle of a shadowy weapon. It was a sword, but it wasn’t very sharp. Almost useless against something with armour, or scales.

Serana reached out and ran her finger over the blade, pursing her lips as she realised just how dull the “metal” was.

“Just how strong is that enchantment?” She asked.

“Pretty strong. One of the mages at the college owed me a favour. It does the job.” After Serana had finished inspecting the weapon Arven dropped it. As soon as it hit the floor it dissipated into a fine mist.

“And your restoration magic, is that the same?”

“No, I’m actually not half bad at that.

Serana tilted her head to the side. “I thought you were terrible at magic?”

“Well, I am. Restoration is just an exception. I’ve been using it since I was a kid.”

Serana didn’t respond, but she kept looking at Arven as if waiting for him to continue. He sighed, relenting.

“My parents were priests who travelled around Cryodiil, mainly just helping people. They were both healers, it’s how they met. I got a lot of exposure to injured soldiers and people from a young age, and I wanted to help.” As Arven spoke, his hand started to glow with a gentle golden light. It soothed him.

“I was pretty bad, and I could tell they were frustrated with how slow I picked it up, but they tried not to show it. Even though I was terrible, I _really_ wanted to help. They often worked themselves to the point of exhaustion trying to help people. Eventually I was good enough to treat minor wounds, and it grew from there.”

Letting the glow dissipate from his hand Arven placed his glove back on, tightening the straps to lock it in place while they continued to work. “I’m far from a master, but I’m good enough. It’s the only magic I can really do without any help though.”

“Can you heal undead?”

Arven hesitated, thinking. “No. I never learned.” It was a sensible question, especially if he was going to keep travelling with Serana. Arven just never thought he’d need it.

“Didn’t think you’d ever be in a position to use it?” Serana asked.

Arven nodded.

“That’s alright. What about wards?”

“You’re awfully inquisitive tonight.”

Serana raised her hand, letting sparks fly between her fingers. “Well, vampires are pretty good at destruction magic. Generally.”

Arven cringed. He knew that, but wards weren’t his strong point. “I can cast them, but… they’re not the best. I generally either shout or try to kill them before they can kill me.”

“You _really_ should practise wards.” Serana replied.

“I can, but I don’t think it’ll do much good.”

Serana just stared at him with an obviously unimpressed look.

“What? I’ve got you to protect me, after all,” Arven responded. He tried his best to imitate Serana’s teasing tone. He didn’t do the best job, but it worked even if he didn’t realise it.

Serana felt herself blush, if only a little bit. She hadn’t done that in _decades_. It was slightly embarrassing, and she immediately decided for some payback. Stepping out in front of Arven, she placed a hand on his chest to stop him before moving some twenty paces back. She didn’t so much walk as just glide, covering the distance in a second.

“Serana…?”

“Try to get close to me,” she said.

“I don’t follow.”

“I’m going to convince you to practise your wards, so you don’t get _blown up._ Try to get close to me.” Without any more discussion she raised a single hand, hovering an inch off of the floor with her feet dangling. A sharp sickle of ice appeared between her fingers before she threw it directly at Arven’s feet. It shattered half a second later, sending sharp small icicles flying in every direction.

Arven jumped back immediately, his greaves getting scratched from the shards. He opened his mouth to tell Serana to stop but found himself dodging to the side as another icicle flew past.

_Gods damn it, can’t I ever have a quiet night?_

Drawing his shield from his back he raised it in front of his body and hunched over, covering most of his figure with the barrier. He then started to run forward, occasionally planting his feet into the ground and using his legs to launch himself from one side to the other.

Serana let a playful grin come to her lips as she continued to throw ice at the warrior. It was entirely effortless for her, but they’d be deadly against a normal person.

After a few seconds the floor was covered in ice around the pair and Arven had closed almost the entire distance while his shield was practically hailed on. The force behind the impacts of the ice was sending jarring vibrations up his arm, but it wasn’t enough to stop him.

Just as he got close enough to strike if he had his sword out, Serana held both her palms outwards towards him and send a blizzard towards the man. Thousands of tiny shards flew from her fingers as strong winds buffeted him backwards, his feet dragging in the ground as he lost all the progress he had made.

“Now, if you had a good ward this would be useless against you!” Serana called out over the sounds of howling winds. It was a good thing that they were still at least half an hour away from any town, or someone would easily hear all the commotion.

_Alright, I’ll show you._

_“Fus!_ _”_

The blizzard parted for Arven as he surged forward, lowering his shield while reaching out with his free hand to grab for Serana as she rushed up towards him. In the blink of an eye she was within reach, but just as he went to close his hand around the collar of her clothing she disappeared into a dark, fine mist.

A moment later and Serana had re-appeared behind him with lightning crackling around her hand, aimed directly at Arven’s back. There was no way the Imperial could respond in time, and as he turned around, he saw a childish, cocky smile on Serana’s face.

The lightning turned into a flame and she shot a small burst directly to Arven’s backside. The flames heated his armour in an instant, singing the skin underneath.

Arven yelped. He jumped, holding his behind in one hand.

Serana couldn’t help herself. She laughed like a child. The sound would’ve been music to Arven’s ears, if it hadn’t been directed at him.

“Oh, _hilarious,_ ’ he said as he tried to retain some dignity, turning to face her.

“It really, really is!” She replied as she continued to laugh. Despite her age, the woman still acted like a kid at times. Arven almost admired that in a way.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough,” he said as he placed his shield on his back once more. Serana just continued to laugh. He let out a sigh, then he whispered.

_“Tiid.”_

For a few moments time around him stood eerily still. It was if he was staring at a perfect statue. The sensation of slowing time to a crawl still made Arven feel strange, but this seemed like the perfect opportunity to abuse his power just to mess with Serana a tiny bit.

Taking a few strides forward he stopped when his nose was barely an inch away from Serana’s. Then, time resumed. The expression on Serana’s face went from one of delight and joy to pure shock in a second. Her laughter cut short, and she hiccupped while scrambling back. Then, she hiccupped again.

“How did you d- _hic_ , that?” She asked while covering her mouth.

Arven tried not to laugh. He succeeded in a way, but just ended up snorting.

“Oh, come on, that’s not funn- _hic!_ ”

Suddenly, Arven failed in his attempt not to laugh. It was the first time he’d properly laughed in a long, long time. It felt good.

Serana grumbled to herself, trying to keep her mouth shut while her entire body jumped ever so slightly every time she hiccupped. Despite her frustration, she liked watching Arven laugh. It was the most open he had been with his emotions, aside from his outburst about her feeding.

_You ass,_ Serana thought with a gentle smile.

__

Serana stopped hiccupping shortly afterwards, much to Arven’s disappointment. They continued to walk towards Dragon Bridge as the moonlight began to fade with the sun barely beginning to peak over the horizon. As they walked Arven was idly practicing wards in his left hand. He hadn’t told Serana, but he took that ‘demonstration’ to heart. On and off again he summoned a ward projecting from his left hand, starting off with something small and weak before putting more and more magicka into it until it became too concentrated for him to handle.

The Imperial repeated that over and over as they walked. His magicka reserves were drained slightly as a result but not enough to significantly disadvantage him if he needed it. The spell did take some concentration though, which was why he took a few steps past Serana without noticing it as she stopped dead in her tracks.

He turned to face her. “Serana?”

She was looking straight ahead. The road curved around to the left however Arven knew it eventually turned back to continue on to their destination. A rough guess figured that Serana was staring directly through to the main bridge that carried them to the town.

“Blood.”

Arven frowned. “How far away?”

“Not too far. It’s fresh.” Without waiting any longer, she burst out into a run, looking behind to make sure Arven followed. He did and the two of them ran off the path, directly through the forest. Arven stuck behind Serana most of the way with the forest being too dark for him to properly see and the last thing he wanted was to trip on a root or stone like a fool.

After a few more minutes they burst out onto the road once more, following it for a couple hundred meters until they came upon the source of the blood, with Dragon Bridge visible slightly further down the road. A cart had been overturned with the corpses of Imperial soldiers sprawled along the floor with one or two non-uniformed bodies. Even the horse dragging the carriage had been slain.

Arven walked over to one of the soldiers, only to stop when he realized just how badly the man had been attacked. His arm had been torn off, along with a chunk of flesh in his neck. The sight made him feel ill.

“Vampires. Not really a surprise, I guess,” said Serana as she crouched over one of the other bodies. She seemed visibly angry. Not just upset, but pissed.

Arven sighed softly to himself. He knew it wasn’t his fault but a part of him felt incredibly guilty for not arriving an hour earlier.

_If I wasn’t so busy sleeping in and befriending a damn Vampire, I would’ve gotten here on time._

He shook his head at the thought. It was wrong and he knew it, but the voice was still as present as ever.

Looking back at Serana he saw the woman opening a bloodied note, scanning over it briefly.

“Forebear’s holdout, they’ve got the Moth Priest. Do you know it?” She asked as she crumpled the paper and stood back up.

Arven nodded. “I know of it.” Without another word he started to jog off, following tracks made by a man who was being dragged with his feet bound together. His guilt surged as he was leaving corpses to rot underneath the rising sun, but he ignored it.

_I’ll come back. First, I have to make sure no one else dies._

“Looks like they’re in a hurry, they haven’t exactly been subtle about this all,” Arven said.

“A lot of the vampires I know are cocky, this doesn’t really surprise me.”

Arven grunted to himself. It was strange. Some vampires he had dealt with had been incredibly cautious and clever. They lived among society for decades, not causing a commotion until they had one small slip up. Others didn’t care, and seemed to thrive on their reputation.

“Why wouldn’t they bring the priest back to the Castle straight away? Surely that’d be safer,” Arven asked.

“Might be too dangerous. I don’t know much about these priests, but they can probably defend themselves. A trip that long with an uncooperative hostage wouldn’t be fun.”

Arven nodded in response. It didn’t take long for them to reach the entrance to the holdout. It looked like nothing more than an entrance to any ordinary cave. The only thing that made it different was a fresh set of footprints leading into it. He looked back to Serana who just nodded to signal that she was ready, and Arven stepped foot into the cave.

It quickly became almost pitch black, making it near impossible to move at anything faster than a crawl. For Arven, at least. Serana was fine. Before long the sound of rushing water came to greet the warrior’s ears, something which he was thankful for. At least he wouldn’t need to worry about the sound of his footsteps.

Reaching into his belt, he pulled out a small vial filled with an off-green liquid. He’d had it for a while now, but he was told by an alchemist that it shouldn’t expire any time soon. After drinking it down and struggling not to let a sour expression form on his face from the taste of it, light slowly began to trickle into his surroundings. Considering how Vampire’s seemed to love hiding in dark places it just made sense to always have a potion of night eye readily available.

The narrow path soon opened up into a large, wide cavern. It was large enough that the ruins of a large _fort_ could be seen taking up the majority of the area. It was large enough to house a small barracks, if needed.

_Who in their right mind would build a fort_ inside _of a cave?_

Between the two of them and the fort was a stream of running water with a bridge off to their side. Not only that, but Death Hounds. Far too many Death Hounds for Arven’s liking.

By far the most prominent item in the cavern however was a shield of magicka surrounding what seemed to be runes, positioned in the middle of the fort. Just as the Imperial was struggling to figure out what it was, a voice started to echo around them, bouncing off the walls and roof of the cave.

“The more you fight me, the more you will suffer, mortal,” said the voice.

“I will resist you, monster. I must!” Said another, replying in a defiant tone.

Arven turned to Serana. “That’ll be our Moth Priest,” he said in a hushed whisper.

Serana reached out to grab his shoulder. Arven looked down at her hand, but he didn’t pull back. “I know that voice,” she said. “Malkus. He’s old, be careful.”

Arven nodded. “Not a Vampire Lord, though?” He asked

Serana shook her head.

“Then we have nothing to worry about.”

Stepping further out into the cavern, Arven and Serana stood on a raised platform. The only path towards the fort seemed to be down towards the bridge, following that over before approaching the entrance to the fort which was placed almost as far _away_ from the bridge as possible.

_Figures, whoever built this would want to make it easy to defend._

“Serana, do you know any silent magic?”

Serana tilted her head. “Not _really_. Destruction magic is great for showing off, not the opposite.”

Arven sighed. “Alright, just… stay put for a moment.”

Serana raised an eyebrow. “And who put _you_ in charge of our little mission?” She said playfully, a grin on her lips. “I could easily just handle this myself, you know.”

Arven opened his arms, signaling to the fort. “Be my guest.”

The vampire paused. She seemed as if she was seriously considering it for a moment. “No, I don’t think I will,” she finally said as she sat down on the floor cross-legged. She looked to Arven with the excitement reminiscent of a child. “I want to see how you handle this. Don’t worry, I’ll help if you need it.”

_This is like a damn game to her._

“If we can sneak up on them it’s safer for the priest. We make ourselves known too early and they might rush it and kill him by accident, or purposefully to keep us from getting to him,” she continued with a more serious expression. “I can try, but I don’t know if I can handle them all fast enough. It’s best for the priest if you can get us closer.”

Arven nodded, Serana’s care helping to silence the voice of doubt in the back of his mind. Regardless, he extended a hand and let magicka swirl around his fingers once more. In the same manner as he always did, he ended up with an ethereal bow in his left hand while tendrils of purple smoke danced around his right, waiting to be formed into arrows. He looked out for as many of the hounds as he could find.

_Five close by, more in the fort._

_“Tiid.”_

As he did before, Arven slowed time. The hounds walked in a manner that seemed unnatural, their red glowing eyes sticking out like luminescent bugs in the darkness of the cavern. Easy targets.

One by one Arven drew his bow and fired off an arrow, each one striking the hounds as close to the heart as possible. He hit three of them dead-on, but the last two were slightly off. The first three dropped without a sound, but the last two ever so slowly began to react to the immense pain they now felt. Just as the shout was running out Arven fired off two more arrows, managing to successfully kill the final hounds just in time.

From his perspective it took a few seconds. For Serana, it was over within the blink of an eye. As the shout faded the warrior looked back to her with a satisfied grin beneath his helmet. Serana glared at him, instantly reminded of her bout of hiccups from before.

“Show off,” she muttered to him.

Arven ignored her, instead looking back out to the fort. He hadn’t been noticed just yet. It seemed as if all attention was on the vampire’s captive.

“How much longer can you keep this up, Moth Priest? Your mind was strong, but you’re exhausted from the struggle,” called the voice from earlier. It seemed cocky. Arrogant. It infuriated Arven just listening to him.

Arven couldn’t hear any response, but Serana did. She walked up to him. “We need to hurry,” she said. “He’s weaker than I thought.”

Arven nodded. “Follow me. The moment they notice us, go straight up and try to stop them from whatever they’re doing. I’ll follow and clear the rest out.”

Without waiting for a response Arven ran down the descent towards the bridge. He kept his bow summoned for the time being as he noticed more pairs of red eyes emerging from behind the walls of the cavern and large stalagmites along the floor. A pair of the hounds noticed him, deep growls coming from their decayed heads.

Before they could warn anyone though each had another arrow through the heart or head. They dropped instantly. Seconds later and Arven was running across the bridge. His plated boots let out a loud _clang_ as they struck stone making him cringe but thankfully the river underneath dulled most of the sound.

Soon they were both running alongside the outer wall of the fort, sprinting towards the entrance. Further up two vampires were standing outside the entrance to the gate. Somehow they hadn’t noticed Arven yet and he counted his blessings before moving to draw his bow once again.

Just as he was ready to shoot, he caught the sight of something in the corner of his vision. He came to a stop as fast as he could, his bow dissipating as he lost concentration while he ended up only feet away from a rune sketched into the ground. He managed to avoid it himself, but rocks and debris ended up being kicked from his boots, flying over the rune and disturbing it.

_Shit!_

Drawing his shield just in time he was deafened momentarily as the rune exploded, a pillar of fire shooting up into the air. Ears ringing, Arven stood up while drawing his sword to ready himself as the flames died down. The moment he did the two vampires he saw just before were upon him, one attacking with a hammer and the other with an axe.

Almost immediately Serana shot up into the air as mist trailed behind her. Her eyes were vibrant and sparks danced around her body before she shot off a powerful bolt of lightning in the direction of the magicka shield. Arven couldn’t see over the walls but he trusted her to save the priest, allowing him to focus on his current fight.

He stepped back, dodging the initial swings of his attackers before stepping back in and stabbing with Dawnbreaker to pierce through the stomach of one of the vampires. However, while he expected a cry of pain or at least the sound of flesh being burnt, nothing came.

_Not vampires, thralls!_

The man he stabbed didn’t even flinch, his mind under such a powerful spell that he was nothing more than an enslaved corpse to do his master’s bidding. The two thralls continued to attack, both swinging from either side as if trying to attack Arven from either flank.

Unable to free Dawnbreaker in time Arven let the weapon go, raising his shield to block the hammer coming from his left while grabbing the hand of the other thrall, stopping the axe in place. While thralls were dangerous, they lacked the strength of their masters. Squeezing down as tightly as he could he managed to crush the wrist of one, forcing the axe to fall free from the thralls’ grip.

The enslaved man pulled back, looking down at its disfigured hand with a blank expression while Arven turned to punch the other in the face. His gauntleted hand made direct contact, breaking the nose of the other thrall before the Imperial continued on to slam the rim of his shield into its mouth. He attacked with his shield again and again, continuing until the enslaved man dropped to the floor with a bloodied, mashed face.

By the time he had slain one, the other was upon him again. The thrall had no weapon and only one working hand but that didn’t stop it as it swung wildly. Each of its fists rebounded off of Arven’s shield, a sickening _crack_ coming when the broken hand hit metal.

After each strike Arven shoved back with his shield, forcing the thrall further and further back until he made it stumble backwards. After pushing it off balance the Imperial lowered his shield and reached out, grasping his sword by the hilt to free it from the falling man. Two more steps forward and he rammed the blade into its skull, finishing it off.

Throughout the fight blasts of lightning continued to erupt above him on top of the fort, the occasional burst of energy flying well over his head. He trusted Serana to be fine but he still wanted to rush up there as quickly as he could.

After bursting through the front gates to the fort which had long since rotted away, Arven was immediately greeted by two arrows rushing to meet him. He’d assumed that everyone inside would’ve been distracted by Serana. He was wrong.

The first skimmed past his waist, rebounding off of the plate while the second buried itself into his left shoulder. The armour prevented it from piercing through his shoulder but it still sunk in deep enough to hurt. Gritting his teeth in pain he continued forward, running directly for the stairs. While the pain was distracting it wasn’t fatal, however a secondary effect slowly began to make itself known. His vision faded, the darkness once more filling his eyes as the only sources of light came from the glow of the magicka shield on top of the fort and the blasts of lightning being shot off from Serana.

_Damn, that potion shouldn’t be running out yet!_

Before he had more time to think, he needed to protect himself from any further volleys. Taking his helmet off Arven inhaled deeply before opening his jaw as widely as he could.

_“Yol Toor Shul!”_

Flames burst from his mouth, erupting in a blinding light that shot towards the two archers standing on top of the fort. Each one ducked for cover as the entire cavern was immediately illuminated, with two arrows heading towards Arven being burnt to a crisp within a second. The ground and even the stone around him caught fire providing some form of light as he continued on, rushing up the stairs with his sword drawn.

He quickly advanced upon the first vampire who managed to fire off one more arrow. Arven blocked it with his shield then bashed the vampire with a backhand, his shield knocking the bow free from the vampire’s hand. His shoulder ached as he used it but Arven did his best to ignore it as he slashed out with Dawnbreaker, burying it deep into the vampire’s neck. Instead of pushing the fresh corpse to the side he reached out to grab hold of the now dead vampire by the shirt, using it as a shield as he advanced forward. The other archer panicked, looking around for an avenue of escape. Unfortunately for her, one direction had Serana and the other had Arven.

Deciding to try her luck the vampire drew her sword and charged with a scream, aiming to pierce her blade through her comrade and directly into Arven’s gut. The Imperial was one step ahead of her. Arven threw the body as he got close enough, launching it forward to try and knock the vampire down from the weight of it. The vampire was too quick. As Arven prepared to strike with Dawnbreaker the vampire ducked to the side, dodging the corpse while spinning to strike with her sword aimed directly at Arven’s head.

Arven tried to raise his shield but pain shot through his arm, the arrow still lodged in deep. He couldn’t raise it in time and instead tried to pivot away from the blade. The metal caught his flesh, slicing through his cheek and the bridge of his nose, narrowly missing his eye by less than an inch. Not deep enough to cause permanent damage, but deep enough to _hurt_.

With a defiant growl he turned back and attacked with Dawnbreaker. The vampire managed to block the first strike, but Arven was too strong. He knocked her blade free from her hand and he struck again, this time severing her hand from her wrist. One more slice mimicked his injury in a more severe fashion, almost severing her nose while blinding her in one eye before he stabbed her cleanly through the skull.

Finally, the cavern fell silent, except for the sound of the Imperial struggling for breath. He looked around, only one eye open as the other was blinded by fresh blood. Serana stood some twenty meters away, next to the shield of magicka with a group of 5 or so corpses lying about her. Each one’s body was singed or charred. Serana herself seemed entirely fine.

The Vampire Lord turned to Arven with a proud, confident smile, yet her expression changed in an instant as she noticed the blood on his face.

“Arven!” She called out as she ran to him. Serana reached up with both hands, cupping his face gently while avoiding the fresh gash. “What happened?” She seemed legitimately concerned.

Arven just blinked, smiling to her. “I got a little cut? No big deal.”

“ _No big deal?_ You could’ve lost your head!”

_Please, that’s a gross exaggeration._

Suddenly, Serana stepped back, keeping her hands to herself as she looked away.

_What was that- oh. Blood._

Arven planted Dawnbreaker into the ground and dropped his shield before removing his gauntlet from his right hand. A part of him was angry at Serana, but he couldn’t blame her, really. After removing his gauntlet he started to work on the pauldron of his left shoulder. He first ripped the arrow out with a grunt of pain, then slowly removed his armour until his shoulder was bare.

“Oh god, you aren’t stripping again are you?” Serana asked.

“Very funny.” Arven placed his hand on his shoulder then let a gentle glow erupt from his hand. The restoration magic quickly sealed the wound, knitting flesh together. “I take it you didn’t have any issues?”

Serana shook her head. “Malkus tried to negotiate. I wasn’t in a talking mood.” She motioned over her shoulder to a corpse that was in _terrible_ shape. One of its legs had been blown off and the entire figure had been burnt to a crisp by lightning. Arven cringed.

_She’s a savage vampire. Nothing else._

He closed his eyes, fighting away the thoughts that came to mind. He had been just as brutal to the thralls, he reminded himself.

“Well, I’m glad you’re alright.” After fixing his shoulder he moved to his face. It took a minute but soon the wound had been sealed with only the faintest of scars left as a reminder. Serana walked up to him once more, getting close and peering intently at his skin. She was only a few inches away.

”Can I help you?” Arven asked.

“Just seeing how good your restoration is. I wasn’t sure if that would leave a scar.”

“Don’t you have insane eyesight? Surely you could see that from where you were.”

“Yeah, but this way makes you more uncomfortable,” she said with a grin. “You’re okay, though? You didn’t get hurt anywhere else?”

Arven shook his head, causing Serana to smile. It was a strange feeling, having someone almost doting on him after a fight. Normally he’d be the one trying to find survivors, or treating the wounded. He wasn’t sure how to feel.

“Anyway,” he said. “Shall we talk to our priest?”

The two of them walked over to the magicka shield. Closer up, Arven could see a lone elderly man standing in the middle of the shield. Arven reached out with a finger and touched the shield only to be repelled instantly.

“Any idea how we get through?” He asked. Without responding Serana held up a strange stone, waving it in her hand before she walked over to a console-like device. After placing it in a socket, the shield disappeared.

“Just be careful approaching him,” she called out.

Arven nodded, walking over towards the man. The priest was breathing heavily, head down. He didn’t respond to Arven’s approach.

“Friend, are you alright? My name is Arven, I’m with th- “

Arven was cut off immediately as the priest raised his head with a horrible growl. The priest charged, a dagger drawn and aimed directly for Arven’s throat. The Imperial took half a step back and reached out to block the attack but the priest was suddenly stopped in his tracks, paralyzed.

Arven, blinked, confused. It wasn’t until he looked past the priest that he saw Serana standing with an extended hand, her eyes glaring at the priest as she did _something_.

Whatever she did seemed to work though. The priests’ eyes suddenly cleared up and Serana let him go, the man stumbling to the floor while coughing.

“That… wasn’t me,” he said in between ragged breaths. “I could see through my eyes, but I could not control my actions.”

Arven stepped forward and extended a hand. The priest caught it, using it to pull himself up. After standing the elderly man turned to face Serana.

“Thank you for breaking that foul vampire’s hold over me,” he said.

“Are you alright? They didn’t injure you?” Arven asked.

“I’m quite alright, thanks to you both. Dexion Evicus is my name. I’m a Moth Priest of the White Gold Tower.” The priest extended his hand and Arven took it as Serana walked back over to them both.

“I’m Arven, and this is Serana.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. These vampires claimed they had some purpose in store for me, but they wouldn’t say what. Probably holding me for ransom, the fools.”

Serana laughed at that.

“I know why the needed you,” Arven said. “We need you for the same purpose.”

The priest perked up. “Oh, you do? Alright then! No more mysteries.”

“I’m… We’re, members of the Dawnguard, and we need you to read an Elder Scroll.”

The priest’s eyes widened instantly. “You have an Elder Scroll? Remarkable! If my knowledge of history serves me, I recall that the Dawnguard was an ancient order of vampire hunters.” As he said that, he looked over to Serana. He was obviously confused.

Serana just shrugged.

“Well, I will be happy to assist you with your Elder Scroll. Just tell me where I need to go.”

“Do you know of Stendarr’s Beacon?” Arven asked.

“That I do.”

“We’re at Fort Dawnguard, it’s close by.”

“Very well. I’ll hurry on my way there before more of those vampires turn up.”

The priest nodded his thanks once more before turning back to the entrance of the cave.

“Hang on, you can travel with us if you’d like,” Arven said. “We’d be happy to escort you.”

The priest just shook his head. “That’s quite alright. I appreciate the sentiment, however there are some things I wish to take care of on the way. I’ll be at your Fort as quickly as I am able.”

With that, the priest set off, leaving Serana and Arven standing in the ruins of the fort surrounded by corpses of vampires.

“Do we _have_ to go back to the Fort?” Serana asked.

“Yes…” Arven replied. Serana let out a groan.

_She’s acting like a damn teenager._

“I can’t stand that place. Its wards make me feel awful, and everyone there gives me the most uncomfortable looks.”

“I can’t begin to imagine why.”

“Hey, do you want to take a quick break before we head off?” She asked. Serana had turned back to him, studying his face.

“I’m fine Serana, thank you.”

“Are you sure? You _did_ just get stabbed in the face.” She had gotten closer to him again her brow furrowed as she looked him over.

“Just a scratch.”

Serana sighed. “A scratch, huh?” She shook her head, turning to the entrance of the cavern after she was satisfied that the Imperial was alright. “Just be more careful next time, okay? You had me worried. It’s a bit of a shock seeing you with blood all over your face.”

With that Serana began to walk back, heading towards the staircase to descend from the top of the fort. Meanwhile, Arven stood with a tight feeling in his chest. He didn’t know what to say. She seemed to be sincere in her worry for him, something which confused the man greatly.

He let out a deep breath.

_Out of all the things to be concerned about now, this isn’t one of them._

Jogging for a moment to catch back up to Serana he walked along her side as they excited the cave, emerging back out into the open. The sun had finally breached the horizon, the light of dawn bathing over him. To his side Serana already had her hood on, recoiling from the direct sunlight.

“I’m going to clean up the ambush. Those soldiers don’t deserve to be left out there,” Arven said. “You should go on towards Dragon Bridge and rent an inn. I’ll catch up and we can get some rest, then head out at dusk again.

Serana turned to him. “I’ll help. My kind did that, I want to do what I can to help,” she responded. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

“I’d really appreciate that, thank you.”

She looked back to him, giving him a brilliant smile that made his heart stop. No matter anyone’s opinion of her, no sane person could deny her beauty.

“You’re very welcome, Arven.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Back with another chapter. Apologies again for the delay, unfortunately I don't have as much time to work on this as I'd like to. I'll keep working away at it though, it may just be longer in between updates. I made this chapter slightly longer to hopefully compensate for the delay though. I hope you all like it!
> 
> Once again thank you for any feedback, bookmarks or kudos. I greatly enjoy hearing everything you all have to say!


	8. Chapter 8

Arven ran as fast as he could. His feet slammed down onto an uneven surface, rocks being kicked away from his feet with every step as the harsh sun bore down on him. He didn’t dare look back; he couldn’t even think about it. His mind was blank. All he could do was run.

That terrifying, brutal roar reached his ears once again. He started to run _faster_ if such a thing was even possible. Even though he was exhausted, bloodied and bruised, he still managed to sprint faster than he ever had. If he had time to think, the warrior would’ve boiled it down to pure fear.

Eventually he slipped. His foot slid on some loose gravel and he came crashing to a halt, trying to roll his body in a way that didn’t end up with him impaling himself on the iron sword he carried.

The second he hit the ground he was scrambling to get to his feet once more, looking over his shoulder to see if there was any more distance between him and that monster. There wasn’t. His panicked expression grew into one of pure horror as he looked into the eyes of the dragon. That disgusting, unnatural beast that had slaughtered everything in its way. The dragon had arrows sticking out of its hide all over its body. A sword was lodged into its stomach and it limped heavily.

Right now, it couldn’t even fly. The beast was close to death but that didn’t stop it from chasing Arven down. He didn’t know why but for some reason it came for him before all else. Everything that got in its way was either thrown to the side or killed. Arven had watched it bite the head off of a soldier. Tear another in half. It even _ate_ a soldier in full armour.

The entire squad that had been sent to investigate the tower was incapacitated, all except for Arven. A few lucky ones had been knocked unconscious, most had been killed.

“Get away from me! Get the _fuck_ away!” Consumed by fear, Arven slashed out with his sword as he scrambled to his feet, continuing to run. You can’t outrun a dragon, though.

Moments after he had started to run once more a blinding, terrible pain shot through his back. The dragon had lunged out to bite at him. He managed to evade getting eaten but those fangs pierced his breastplate, tearing flesh from bone as three incredibly deep gouges mangled the man. Arven dropped to the floor with a cry as the dragon only managed to swallow his armor, the straps that kept the armour on breaking by some miracle to let him break free. Despite the horrid pain he tried to crawl away. That was brought to a halt as soon as the dragon bit down on his leg. He felt a fang pierce directly through his thigh before he was flung across the floor.

He wished for unconsciousness. At this point he even wished for death. He just wanted this horrific experience to be over. Somehow he held onto his consciousness, his own blood almost blinding him from cuts and scrapes all over his face as he struggled to watch the dragon approaching him. Arven was unable to move his legs by this point, with only his arms still having some strength left.

Eventually the dragon made its way to his body. The beast got close, moving in until its snout was only inches away from Arven’s face. It smelt terrible, the stench of blood and rotting flesh making Arven want to puke. The dragon made eye contact with Arven, staring into him. The beast was intelligent, that much was obvious from the way it moved. The way it studied him.

Unexpectedly, the beast spoke. _“You are no Dovah.”_

Then beast opened its mouth, its jaws parting to close down around Arven’s mangled torso.

_No. Fuck this. Fuck this thing! I am_ not _going to die to this beast!_

Arven tried to scream, but all that came out was a gurgle from the blood resting in his mouth. He reached to his leg, feeling it in a distinctly unnatural position but he found what he needed. The imperial drew out a dagger, stabbing it directly into the roof of the dragon’s mouth. The beast howled. It wailed in pain as Arven struck again and again, trying to stab it as many times as possible before it withdrew.

Holding the dagger in place as the dragon pulled away, he managed to tear a long jagged line from the roof of its mouth to the front, blood pouring out. While alone it wasn’t a fatal blow, there was only so much damage the dragon could take. It limped away with a few slow steps until it stumbled, falling to the floor with a resounding crash. From the arrows and blades in its hide, now with the added strain of blood filling its mouth the beast finally succumbed to its wounds.

It laid only meters away from Arven with one piercing eye staring him down until it closed. Arven felt _something_ as it died, but he couldn’t explain it. The warrior laid on his back, unable to catch the breath he so desperately needed as he felt a blackness rushing up to greet him.

Just as he was ready to close his eyes a powerful surge of strength flooded into him. He opened his eyes wide, turning to the dragon to see it disintegrating into a gorgeous array of lights. Arven had no way to describe what he saw. Flesh and tissue melted away until all that was left was bone, a swirling tempest of magicka being sucked into his body.

Moments later he heard the shouts of men in the distance. Turning his head over to one side he saw a group of soldiers, some fresh and one or two covered in blood and scrapes pointing to him. They all sprinted towards Arven, rushing to his aid.

Arven cried. It wasn’t from happiness, necessarily. He was just exhausted in every way possible, and all he could do was cry. Just as the soldiers reached him, a powerful, booming voice echoed across the entire landscape.

_“Dovahkiin!”_

___

Arven shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts that ran through his mind over and over. The memory was an incredibly unpleasant one, but it never left him. He had built up a sweat as he dug graves for the soldiers who were killed in the ambush by the vampires. He was hoping that some labor would clear his mind, but the memories of the first dragon he fought rushed to him from nowhere.

Just as he was readying himself to lower the last soldier into his grave, Arven felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped turning around only to see Serana looking at him with an amused expression.

“Some warrior you are. You’re _very_ easy to sneak up on, you know?” She said.

“Sorry. Was lost in thought,” Arven replied.

“I could tell,” Serana said. She studied him, peering into his eyes. He hated it when she did that. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, bad memories.”

Serana didn’t push the subject any further. Instead she gave Arven a hand, helping him to lower the last guard before shoveling the dirt over the body. Arven’s body felt sluggish but he pushed on, although Serana ended up doing most of the work.

By the time the graves had been completed and Arven was satisfied, he felt like he could pass out on the spot.

“Alright, let’s go. I’ve got a room booked at Dragon Bridge,” Serana said.

Arven nodded. The sun was high in the sky by this point, despite still being low on the horizon when he started to dig. Serana was wearing her hood like usual, her hands covered by gloves as she tried to avoid any direct sunlight.

The two started the short walk over to the town, walking side by side on the path.

“You sure took your time,” Arven said.

“Decided to have a nap,” Serana responded. Arven just looked over with an incredibly unimpressed look.

“I’m _joking,_ ” she continued. “I got questioned when I got there. The guards finally caught onto the attack.”

“You alright?”

“I’m a big girl, I can handle myself,” she said, even though she appreciated his concern. “They were really persistent. At first, they thought I was a thief and that I had something to do with it. By the time I convinced them I wasn’t, they were asking me to stay in town for the day so they could ‘watch over me’.” She scoffed.

Arven let out a brief laugh. “How kind of them. How could you possibly turn down such a generous offer?” Serana just rolled her eyes.

“By the time that was done, I just booked the room and came back here. Bad news, though.”

Arven just looked to her. He sighed internally, but at this point he was far too tired to really care.

“Only room left was a double bed. Looks like we’re sharing,” Serana said with an apologetic smile.

Arven had taken his helmet off earlier as he worked, and he now regretted it. As the helmet hung from to his waist, he felt heat rushing to his cheeks.

“I’ll sleep on the floor, it’s fine.”

Serana just snorted. It was a _very_ un-ladylike laugh, but it was cute in its own way. “I’m kidding. You’re so easy to stir up, it almost isn’t even fun.”

“Why do it, then?”

“I said _almost_. It’s still very, very fun.”

“You know, you must be the most talkative person I’ve ever travelled with,” Arven responded.

Serana’s eyed widened ever so slightly. “Oh, you’ve travelled with other people? Always figured you more as the loner type.” After speaking she recoiled slightly, raising her hands. “Not that it’s bad or anything! You just seem like you prefer your own space.”

Arven shrugged. She was right, after all. “I do, mostly. When I first found out what I am, I had jarls sending people to me to try and win my favour. They really didn’t take no for an answer.”

“Really? That seems… strange.”

“Well, some of them thought I was a kind of God, as stupid as that is. Either that or a descendant of the old Emperor. I can understand _why_ they did it.”

Serana hummed to herself for a moment, thinking. “They wanted a God, and they ended up with you. How terrible.”

“You’re a _mean_ person,” Arven responded. Serana just flashed him a smile.

“I’m _lovely_ , thank you very much.”

” _Anyway._ Lydia was the only one I could tolerate for any period of time, and even then I just felt bad for her, putting her in danger so often. So, I just have her look after my house.”

“Oh please, I’m sure you loved having her around.”

Arven looked to Serana, obviously confused. “Not really. She’s nice, don’t get me wrong but I just felt awkward travelling with someone following me silently all the time.”

“Nice? She’s stunning, Arven.”

Arven thought about it for a moment. Serana had a point. Lydia was definitely attractive, he just never thought of her in that way.

“I wasn’t really in the best state of mind to even notice back then. I was a _lot_ worse than I am now.”

Serana let out an inquisitive hum, her eyes studying him intently.

“Well, I guess that’s believable.”

Arven didn’t respond after that, and Serana didn’t press the matter any further. The two continued to walk towards the town in silence from then on out, a few minutes passing until Serana spoke up again.

“Hey, Arven,” she said.

He turned to face her, raising an eyebrow.

“Does travelling with me bother you?”

“Immensely,” he responded without hesitation. She punched him in the arm.

“No, seriously. I know you like to keep to yourself. Do I bother you?”

Arven went to respond, but he paused. He hadn’t ever thought about it. If he was to be honest with himself, he actually didn’t mind her company. The realization shocked him.

_She’s a vampire. An exceptionally dangerous one, at that.  I really, really shouldn’t_ enjoy _spending time with her. Is_ _this okay?_

“Okay, can you say something? Not saying anything at all is kind of putting me on edge,” Serana said.

“Sorry,” he replied after a pause. “No, you don’t bother me. I’m… glad, that I’m travelling with you.”

“Okay, no need to be a sarcastic ass,” she replied.

“No, I’m serious. You don’t know how to shut up, but it’s a good distraction. I feel less stressed when we talk.” Arven sighed to himself, reaching up to rub the amulet underneath his shirt. He knew she wasn’t charming him or placing him under any spell, but the doubt was always there.

“It’s… comforting,” he said. He couldn’t look her in the eyes as he admitted it. It was almost embarrassing in a way. He didn’t hear a response from Serana, instead she just nudged him with her shoulder. Turning to look at her she was simply looking forward with a sweet smile across her lips.

That was the last of their conversation before they reached the bridge leading into town. Before they crossed it, Serana stopped Arven.

“You might want to, well… clean up, before we head into town,” she said.

Arven blinked at her. “Why? I can do that when we’re _in_ town.”

“You’re covered in blood and all of the guards would’ve heard of the attack by now.”

“Ah.”

Begrudgingly Arven walked over to the nearest stream while Serana remained by the side of the road. His armour wasn’t in too bad of a shape but his face still had some dried blood on his skin with even more matted in his hair. He was surprised that Serana hadn’t responded to it more.

_Maybe she has, and I’m just too tired to notice._

After removing his armour he walked into the stream with his clothes still on. The Imperial submerged himself, running his hands through his hair to try and get as much of his blood out as possible. He spent a good few minutes bathing himself before he was satisfied that he wouldn’t draw too much attention.

The urge to stay in and rest on the side of the bank was strong, but a meal and a good bed would be far more helpful to him in his current state. He walked out of the water begrudgingly, using the same trick as he had many times before to dry himself off.

Just before he put his armour back on the man paused, an idea coming to his head. He opened up one of the small packs attached to his belt and picked out one of the empty bottles he carried. Then, he drew out his knife.

Minutes later and Arven emerged from the road freshly washed. He was far from clean, but it was a vast improvement from before.

The pair of them walked over the bridge, not passing a single person before they reached the other side where a pair of guards were stationed. They both lit up as Serana approached, but their expressions soured heavily when they turned to face Arven.

“Hold it right there, Dragon Bridge is closed while we run an investigation.”

Serana frowned. “You let me pass just an hour ago.”

One of the guards nodded. “Aye, that we did. We won’t turn away a woman in need of shelter, but this,” he continued while motioning to Arven. “An armed man appearing shortly after an attack, that we can’t allow.”

Serana went to speak, but Arven held a hand out to stop her. He approached the two guards who both tensed up, hands moving closer towards their belts. He didn’t mind complying when guards were simply doing their job, but the cocky, arrogant expression on one of their faces just irritated him immensely.

“I am Legate Arven of the Imperial Legion, thane of Solitude. I _don’t_ have time for this.”

The two guards paused for a moment, until one laughed. “Hah! And _I’m_ General Tullius! Impersonating an officer is a crime, you know.”

While the one guard laughed, sticking his chest out, realization dawned across the other guard’s face.

“Alen,” the guard said, “shut your damn mouth!”

Alen turned to face his friend, frowning. “You watch what you say Bjorn, I’m still your superi- “

“That’s the damn _Dragonborn_ you fool!”

“ _What?_ ”

“Look at his sword!” The guard immediately braced up, saluting Arven with an apologetic look strewn across his face. “My apologies, Legate! We didn’t recognize you at first.”

The other guard just looked confused, until he looked over Arven one more time and proceeded to almost pass out. He braced up as well, saluting, although he did so with the wrong hand. Arven approached the one who was denying them entry before, stopping only inches away from his face.

“I just buried the bodies of the soldiers who died while you were busy standing here conducting your _investigation,_ ” he said.

The guard didn’t respond. He was almost quivering with fear. There was the temptation to think of some punishment for the man, but Arven didn’t have it in him at the moment. He was just too tired.

Arven walked off, leaving the two men where they stood as he walked over to the inn while Serana jogged to catch back up.

“A Legate as well? Just how many titles do you have?” She asked.

Arven sighed. “However many people throw on me. It’s frustrating, mostly. Has it’s uses though.”

“He’s still standing there you know,” she said with a smirk as she looked over her shoulder. The arrogant guard was still standing in place, frozen. The other one was just shaking his head.

“Good.”

Once the two entered the inn Serana lead them directly to their room. She pulled out a key, twirling it on her index finger before unlocking the door. As she passed the inn-keeper she offered a smile and a nod, while the inn-keeper went off into another room in a slight hurry.

Arven was curious, but he didn’t speak. The room was similar to the one they’d stayed in back at Rorikstead, if not slightly bigger. The moment the door was closed behind him Arven kicked off his boots, collapsing on the bed with a long groan.

“Don’t you fall asleep just yet,” Serana said.

He managed to pull himself up with some considerable effort before looking at her. “You’re going to have to give me a _very_ good reason for that.”

As if on queue there was a knock at the door. Arven frowned, but Serana quickly opened it to let in the inn-keeper. She was carrying a huge plate filled with food. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but there was enough meat, stew and fruit to satisfy Arven. There even seemed to be a pie of some sort.

His eyes lit up in a second, and as soon as it was placed down at the table he was digging in voraciously. There was a momentary pause to offer his thanks to the inn-keeper, who just laughed, before he was back to eating.

Arven didn’t even notice that Serana had slipped out of the room to talk with the other woman.

“Thank you for that, Faida,” Serana said.

The inn-keeper nodded. “You’re most welcome. Your husbands had a rough few days, looks like.”

Serana immediately shook her head. “Husband? No, no we’re not married. He’s just a friend.”

“Oh! Apologies my lady, I didn’t mean to assume. We do have spare rooms, and it looks like we’ll be having a quiet night what with the attack and all. You’re welcome to one of them if you’d like, no charge.”

“Ah!” Serana responded, somewhat lost for words. “That’s… very kind! But,” she trailed off, trying to think of a plausible experience.

“You want to watch over your friend?”

Serana resigned herself, nodding. “I do.”

The inn-keeper offered a motherly smile. “Well, you let me know if you need anything else. I’m here all day and night.”

Serana offered her thanks before returning to the room. Arven looked up as she entered, but only for a moment before he resumed his feast. He already had made a mess with his fingers covered in food.

“Ever used a fork?” She asked. Arven just grunted as he continued his feast.

Serana acted almost fed up with the way he was acting, but she was happy. It was nice to see him lively, even if it’s just with something so simple as eating.

After Arven had finished, almost demolishing the plate that could’ve fed a family he reclined back on his chair. With a lazy groan he reached for his bed, far too full and tired to move for the moment.

“Feel better now?” Serana asked with a coy smile as she sat up on her bed, legs crossed while she idly read a book.

“Much better,” he replied turning to face her. “Thank you for that.”

Serana’s smile grew slightly wider. “You didn’t even offer me any. How inconsiderate,” she said with a smirk.

Arven looked down to his plate. All that was left was some bones, some crust of the pie and the remnants of a stew. He actually felt guilty for a split second before realising that he was being toyed with. He turned to her, offering the most unimpressed look he could muster.

Serana giggled to herself.

“Actually,” Arven said, remembering something. He all of a sudden felt… silly.

_I really hope this isn’t going to be awkward._

Serana responded with a curious hum, her book closed around a single finger to keep track of where she was. With an almost pained grunt Arven brought himself to his feet and walked over to his satchel, squatting down to ruffle through his belongings.

“Oh, did you get me a present?” Serana asked with a sarcastic tone as she leaned forward expectantly.

“Something like that,” Arven responded.

Serana’s expression changed to one of genuine surprise. “Wait, really? …Why?”

“It’s… not really a present.” With a sigh, Arven stood up with a bottle in his hand. He held it out before himself, while still keeping it close as if he wasn’t fully committed to giving it to her. It was a vial of his blood that he’d filled back at the stream.

_Gods, this is awkward._

Serana just blinked at it, dumb-struck.

“I don’t want you to suffer out of consideration for me. I appreciate it, I really do, but I don’t want you to go hungry. Especially if it means it’ll be harder for you defend yourself.”

Arven wasn’t quite sure why he did it. Not exactly. Part of it was out of consideration for Serana, much to his surprise. Some of it was out of a desire to keep her under check, so that she wasn’t a danger to anyone.

He was starting to hate the part of himself that didn’t still trust her.

Serana quietly stood up, placing her book down as she stepped over to him. She seemed shocked.

“Are you sure?” She asked, looking up at him.

Arven just nodded. Serana reached out to take the bottle, holding it in her hand. Then, suddenly, she hugged him.

Arven’s eyes went wide as he froze, his arms hanging awkwardly for a moment before he hesitantly wrapped them around her back. The second he did that Serana pulled away, the contact reminding her of what she was doing.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just…” Serana trailed off, refusing to make eye contact as her skin became flushed.

“Are you okay, Serana?” Arven asked.

“I’m fine, really. That’s… It’s just been a while since someone’s done something for me without an ulterior motive, you know? I can’t even remember the last time my parents did something for me that didn’t involve the damn scroll or their stupid feud.”

_Without an ulterior motive, huh?_

Arven felt a serious pang of guilt. He tried his best to suppress it.

“Sorry, again. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s fine. It was just a bit of a shock,” Arven replied.

Serana looked down at the bottle in her hand, smiling softly to herself. There was a faint hunger in her eyes, but nothing compared to what it had been when Arven cut himself on his helmet.

“If you need more, just ask.” Arven said.

“Thank you.”

Arven let out a deep sigh. Once the surprise had worn off the exhaustion was back. He walked over to his bed, collapsing on it before shifting about to get comfortable.

“Hey, Arven,” Serana said turning to face him. He was already asleep. She let out a quiet laugh, holding the bottle close to her chest. Not wanting to disturb his sleep, even though he could likely sleep through just about anything at this point, she returned to her bed.

“You’re far too nice to be a vampire hunter,” she softly muttered to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Back again sooner than I expected! A shorter update this time with no real action, just some added character interactions. Had a bit of free time recently so what better way to use it than to write! Hope you all enjoy reading it, and as always thank you to everyone who takes the time to read it, and a HUGE thank you to everyone who comments, leaves kudos etc.
> 
> Hope you all have a great day!


	9. Chapter 9

For once, Arven woke before Serana did. His eyes opened lazily, the dim moonlight entering through the window to illuminate the end of his bed. All the dull aches in his body were still there but they were more tolerable than the day before. He sat up and stretched with a satisfying crack coming from his upper back.

With a relaxed sigh he looked over towards Serana, opening his mouth to speak, but he stopped himself when he saw her sleeping. Seeing her asleep on a regular bed, curled up on her side with her chest slowly rising and falling make her look incredibly _human._ He’d never seen a vampire asleep before. Well, he had. It was just normally for the briefest moment after he opened their coffin to stab them, so he never really had time to observe them while they slept.

It was the first time he’d seen her wearing something other than he regular outfit as well. The woman’s cloak, jacket and other belongings were resting on a table in the room leaving her wearing a loose silk shirt and her trousers.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d just think she was a regular woman.

As he turned away a reflection caught his eye. He turned back to see the vial he’d given her before. It was half-empty.

_Maybe that’s why she’s sleeping so soundly now._

A chill went through his body as the realisation that she’d just drunk his blood hit him, but he shook it off. It was a bit concerning how he’d become so comfortable with the presence of something so dangerous.

He quickly decided it was best not to linger on the fact, however he quickly found himself without anything to do. He didn’t want to make any noise, as he’d likely wake Serana instantly considering how good her senses are.

 _Wait. Why do I care if I wake her? That should be the last of my worries_.

Despite his thoughts, he didn’t move. He simply remained sitting up on his bed, looking around idly for a good few minutes.

 _Well, this sucks_.

“What _are_ you doing?” Serana’s voice called out.

Arven jumped ever so slightly, exhaling as he turned over to look at Serana. “How long?”

“Hmm?” She responded. She was still lying on her side with her hair falling over her face, but her bright yellow eyes shone through her wine-coloured hair. It was hard to see, but there was a definite cheeky smile on her lips.

“You heard me,” Arven said.

“I woke up when you did, I think. You make a _lot_ of noise.”

Arven let out an exaggerated sigh. “Last time I’m ever considerate for your sake.”

She grinned at him. “Still, I appreciate it.”

Serana sat up, stretching out as she did so with a slight yawn. Her shirt hugged against her figure as she did so, causing Arven to quickly turn away.

“So,” she said. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Well, when you’re ready we start heading back to the Dawnguard.”

“That’s a _very_ long walk.”

Arven nodded.

Serana let out a small groan, falling back to collapse onto her bed. As she did so her hair ended up in a tangled mess, obscuring her face. “Don’t you have a horse or something?”

Arven turned to her. “Why would I have a horse?”

“Didn’t one of those Jarls buy one for you? They damn near gave you everything else.”

“Actually… yeah,” Arven said. “I gave it back.”

Serana groaned once more.

“Why would you do that?

“They tend to run when they hear a dragon.”

Serana hummed to herself. She couldn’t think of a proper retort, Arven was right after all.

“It’s not _that_ far,” Arven said.

“It’ll take days.”

“Oh, grow up.”

In response Serana rolled around, groaning while putting on an exaggerated show as she refused to leave the comfort of her bed.

“How old are you, again?” Arven asked.

The woman sat up, glaring at Arven through the stands of hair that fell over her face. She looked _very_ cute.

“Fine, fine,” she relented. “You just enjoy tormenting me, don’t you?”

“Oh, most definitely,” Arven responded.

She just grumbled at him.

 “I can’t convince you to take a day off, can I?” She asked him.

Arven blinked, stuttering for a brief moment. “A… what?”

“A day off. You know, just relaxing. Not doing anything,” she said before waiting for a response. After one came, she continued. “Never had one of those before?”

“Never had the time,” Arven responded.

“That’s sort of sad, Arven,” Serana said, a sympathetic look on her face.

“If I take a day off, someone I might’ve been able to save could end up torn apart.”

She gave him a soft smile. “Well, after all this, when no one’s under any threat, I’m forcing you to take a day off.”

Arven rolled his eyes, avoiding a response.

 _I think I’d like that though,_ he thought to himself.

“Hey, about that,” Serana started. Arven looked to her.

“How many dragons are there?” She asked.

Arven cringed ever so slightly, looking away. “I don’t really know. There shouldn’t be _that_ many more.”

“Any reason why?”

“Well, something was bringing them back to life but that _something_ is no longer around. So, there should be a finite supply of them.” As he spoke Serana sat up, bringing her legs up to her chest as she hugged them. Arven paused for a moment, slightly distracted.

“What was bringing them back to life?” Serana asked.

“Long story.”

Serana hummed to herself. She knew better than to push Arven on this topic, despite the curiosity eating at her. “Have you noticed there being less of them?” She continued.

“I… maybe? I haven’t really been paying attention recently,” Arven said.

“You know, you don’t seem to be affected by them as much recently.”

Arven frowned. He looked to Serana, studying her. He didn’t speak, so Serana continued.

“Sorry, I know you don’t like talking about it, but… the first time I brought it up could hear your heart beating like crazy.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Arven snapped back defensively.

“I know, but,” Serana sighed. “It doesn’t happen as much anymore. Hell, the other day you shouted just to play a prank on me.”

Arven exhaled deeply. “I thought that was you.”

Serana tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I thought you’d been calming me.”

“What? No! Of course not!” She immediately responded. Arven just stared her down.

“I promise. The only time I’ve done that is after we fought the two dragons and you weren’t calming down. I’d never do something like that to you without your permission, or unless you were in danger,” Serana said. He locked eyes with him, and he tried his best to read her.

He felt like she wasn’t lying, but he couldn’t fully convince himself.

“If you haven’t, then… I don’t understand,” Arven said.

Serana shrugged. “That’s why I asked.”

 _Nothing has changed,_ he thought to himself. _The only thing that’s changed, is that she’s with me now._

Arven shook his head.

Serana let her chin rest on her knees, pulling her legs closer. “Are you alright? I’m sorry I brought this up.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“I can hear your heart-rate,” she responded, as if saying _don’t you lie to me._

“Dealing with you is exhausting, that’s why.”

Serana pouted. She lowered her legs, sitting cross legged as she faced him. Her shirt was buttoned up, but as she leaned forward more of her pale, pristine skin was visible. Arven looked away.

“Why, because I can tell your heart-rate is still rising?” She asked, a playful grin on her face.

“ _Maybe_ it’s because you’re still in your undergarments.”

“Oh?” Serana’s grin only grew wider. She placed her arms behind her, leaning back as she purposefully stuck out her chest to have her shirt hug her figure. “Am I distracting you?”

Arven’s cheeks flushed red, and he stood up. “I’m getting some food.”

“Oh, come on, you’re no fun!”

______________

A few hours later and the pair were slowly making their way back to Fort Dawnguard. The entire way Serana had been humming an idle tune to herself, just loud enough so that Arven could hear it. He rather enjoyed it.

He found that he was oddly disappointed when she stopped.

“Hey, Arven,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know anything about Elder Scrolls?”

“That’s an odd question to ask.”

“Well… you spend so much time with something, you start getting curious about it,” she continued.

Arven just looked to her, raising a brow.

“Subtle. What else did you want to know about me?”

“No, seriously. I think I’ve grilled you enough recently. I’m really just curious about this thing I’ve been carrying around.”

“What makes you think I know anything about them?” Arven said. He still had the tune of Serana’s song running through his head, but the sound of his boots hitting the pavement interfered with it. He wanted her to keep going.

“You’re full of surprises. For all I know you’ve held one of these things before.”

“I mean…”

“…Seriously? What _haven’t_ you done?”

“Figured out a way to get you to leave me alone.”

“ _Ouch_ ,” Serana responded. “Where the hell did you get a scroll from?”

“It’s… a long story. Some old ruins. It helped teach me a shout, of all things. Not sure if you remember, but the one I used to ground the dragons we fought before.”

A moment of realisation came across Serana’s face. “I wondered how you did that. It just looked like you got _really_ angry and they sort of gave up.”

“Yes. That’s exactly what happened,” Arven replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Serana flashed him a childish smile.

“All I know is that they’re heavier than they look,” he said.

“Are they?” Serana responded, shifting on the spot as if she was trying to gauge the weight of the scroll on her back.

“Seriously? You can’t feel the weight of that?”

Serana shook her head. “No, not really.”

“Just how strong are you?”

“Strong enough to beat you up,” she responded.

Arven sighed. Maybe it was better not to have an answer to that. It was easier to get along with her when he wasn’t conscious of just how dangerous she is. After he didn’t respond, it didn’t take long for Serana to start up her humming again. A gentle smile came to Arven’s lips as she did.

For the next few hours the two of them continued their walk, uninterrupted by anything or anyone else. Arven spent most of his time either enjoying the sky-lights or enjoying tune Serana was singing. Eventually the town of Rorikstead came up on the horizon.

They both decided that if they came across a carriage driver that they’d hire him to take them the rest of the way, on the one condition that it _wasn’t_ the same driver as before.

Once they got to the town in the early hours of the morning, they came across the same driver as before.

“No,” Arven said.

“Oh, come on!” Serana replied, pouting. “We are _not_ walking the entire way to Riften.”

“There’ll be another driver later on, you can survive walking for a bit longer.”

Serana grumbled at him. Then, she made a decision. Standing in front of Arven she concentrated for a moment before grabbing him by the wrist, dragging him towards the driver.

“Wait, hey! No! I do _not_ want to talk to that guy again.”

“He won’t recognise you, it’s fine.”

Before Arven could complain any more, Serana had called out to the man waiting in an eerily still fashion on his carriage.

“You’re both up awful early. Looking for a lift?” The man responded.

“Yes, please. We’re hoping to go to Whiterun,” Serana said.

“Sure, climb in back and we’ll be off. Been itchin’ to get out of this town.”

Arven sighed, resigned to his fate as he climbed into the back of the carriage sitting opposite Serana. She just flashed him a bright, beautiful smile and he found it hard to say anything back.

“Why’s that, if you don’t mind me asking?” Serana said as she turned back to the driver.

“Now, ye’ ain’t going to believe this but this town was attacked by DRAGONS not too long ago!” The driver said, in the most animated voice that Arven had ever seen from someone in his profession.

Arven sunk back into his seat, groaning. Thankfully Serana had placed an illusion over him, making him look like a regular traveller.

 “Really?” Serana asked, playing the part of an innocent woman. “That sounds amazing! It would’ve been exciting, surely.”

The driver scoffed. “Exciting? Bah! Call it what you want, I’m just thankful I’ve still got my hide!”

“Did the guards scare them off?”

 _You’re enjoying this far too much, Serana,_ Arven thought. The entire time as she spoke to the driver, she was flashing him a cheeky grin.

“Now, this is where it gets even crazier. The Dragonborn was on _my carriage!_ ”

“No way!” Serana responded.

 _Kill me,_ Arven thought.

“He was! The man LEAPT off of my carriage and ran off to fight the dragons!” The man said, excitement leaping from his voice. “A bit too much of a thrill for me though, if I’m bein’ honest. Getting to old for these things now.”

“Say, what was he like?” Serana asked, directing a smile towards Arven as she continued to talk with the driver.

“Eh? Oh, the Dragonborn? He was, ah… an interestin’ fellow.”

Serana snorted. “Oh, how so?”

“He wasn’t really the chatty type. Honestly, I think he might’ve banged his head a few too many times. Somethin’ seemed _off_ about him.”

Serana struggled to maintain her composure, a fit of laughter threatening to escape from her mouth as Arven reiterated his wish to die.

___________

Leaving early in the morning, the carriage finally had the walls of Whiterun in sight by the time that the sun was just starting to set. Arven and Serana had almost been up for an entire day yet neither seemed overly tired. As soon as he could Arven left the carriage, walking as far away from the dangerous duo behind him while Serana arranged to meet the man again at daybreak. She caught up to him quickly enough.

“Well, that was a _fun,_ ” she said to him.

“You’re sleeping on the streets tonight,” Arven replied.

“Oh? You’re going to let someone as dangerous as myself roam your precious city?”

“ _My_ city? Didn’t know I was a Jarl.”

“Might as well be, considering how these people love you so.” As they walked up to the gate Serana removed the illusions she’d placed over them, both to get easier access into the city as well as to prove a point.

“That’s a big of an overstatement,” he replied.

“Good afternoon to you, thane!” A voice rang out from above, a guard standing on the walls who had spotted Arven only moments later.

Arven winced beneath his helm, but he raised a hand to return the greeting. The word seemingly got out quick and by the time the two reached the front gate two guards were standing at attention with the entrance to the city open.

“My Thane, welcome back,” one said. The guard was unfamiliar to Arven.

“Pleasure to be back. My thanks for the warm welcome, as always,” Arven responded.

The guard nodded. “Least we can do for you. Let us know if there’s anything you need.”

After they were out of ear-shot of the guards, Serana spoke up. “Just what did you do to become Thane here, anyway?”

Arven hesitated for a moment, but quickly decided there was no harm in telling her. “A little while ago, while the Civil War was still in full swing this city was attacked. I just helped them defend Whiterun.”

“Can I ask why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, why you chose the side you did? You don’t have to answer, it’s just idle curiosity,” Serana said, telling a half-truth. She was mostly interested in getting to understand the warrior better.

Arven opened his mouth to speak, but paused. He wasn’t entirely sure, so he had to work out the best thing to say. “I… I could say I was just supporting the Empire. Makes sense being an Imperial and all.” Underneath his helmet he grimaced. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, remembering that day.

He tried to fight to defend as many people as he can. Killing other people, especially those fighting for their homes or doing what they believe is right, is something that he could never come to terms with.

“The Stormcloaks instigated the attack. They threatened to kill a lot of people to get what they want in support of their end-goal. I couldn’t just stand there and let a town get slaughtered, knowing civilians would be caught up in it.” After he spoke, he waited for a response as they walked. None came.

He turned to look at Serana, only to find her scanning the area around them. “Serana?”

She raised a finger as if to silence him before taking a step closer. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

They had been walking towards Arven’s house, a public road with plenty of people on it, most of them walking home. Long shadows were being cast by each house leaving most of the road out of the direct sunlight which was fading quickly.

“Care to elaborate?” He asked. Serana kept looking forward, her brow furrowed as she looked around them both. They were quiet for the moment with the sounds of footsteps and idle conversation filling the area. It was hard for Arven to look around, being in the middle of a crowd.

Serana moved closer to him to the point where they were standing shoulder to shoulder. He could tell he had become incredibly tense. He couldn’t feel a _thing_ himself but he knew he’d be better of trusting her senses. They’d be much, much sharper than his own.

While struggling to look for the source of her concerns he found a robed man leaning up against the side of a building. There was nothing _really_ inconspicuous about it, the man just seemed a little out of place. Until the hooded figure lifted his head. It made eye contact with Arven, blood-red eyes shining on its shadowed face.

_Ah._

The vampire was too far away to be heard normally but somehow Arven could hear its voice reverberating in his head.

_“Hello again. Meat.”_

“Arven, move!” Serana suddenly shouted, shoving Arven to the side as she spun around with a hand outstretched. A blade appeared right where Arven’s back was a moment ago, seconds before Serana blasted a thrall away with a quick bolt of lightning.

The _boom_ of Serana’s spell quickly sent most people into a panic. Many started to run away from the source while some other Nords drew weapons always at their hips, looking for the source of the commotion. A few people stood eerily still, simply staring at Arven. They had all snapped their attention towards him in the most eerie, unnatural motion possible. Then they all drew swords and charged.

_Shit!_

“Everyone! Stay back!” Calling out to the townsfolk around him Arven drew his sword, barely managing to get his shield off of his back in time to deflect the first strike from a thrall. He didn’t have time to look behind him but from the sounds of it Serana was busy fighting off some of her own.

The cries of townsfolk filled Arven’s ears as he charged directly at one thrall, smashing the attacker’s sword-hand away with his shield before swinging his blade to decapitate the enslaved man. He wasn’t going to take any chances with something that couldn’t feel pain.

His blade caused a clean cut, severing the head from the first attacker. Yet, the body didn’t fall. It stood in place, as rigid as steel. Just as Arven saw the vampire behind him, a hand outstretched to control the thrall, the body _burst_ open from the chest. Blood and gore infused with destructive magicks assaulted Arven and pushed him back, momentarily blinding him just as another thrall swung down at him.

He instinctively raised his shield over his head just as a hammer crushed into his side. A pained gasp of air came from his lips and the hammer fell once again. He felt bone break. Lashing out with a Dawnbreaker he felt it come into contact with his attacker just as he opened his mouth wide to shout.

The second he tried to draw in air a debilitating pain shot through his chest, leaving him gasping and struggling _not_ to breath in to avoid the same pain again. He raised a hand to his chest where the he’d been struck, flooding his body with restorative magic.

Struggling to open his eyes the first thing he saw was the back of Serana as she cleanly cut down the thrall that had attacked him. She had gore all across her attire but she seemed unharmed, as far as he could tell. After slaying the last imminent threat, she turned back to him.

“Arven! Are you okay?” Serana spoke quickly, almost panicked.

Arven nodded. “Fine.” He stood up straight, taking off his helmet and wiping the remaining gore from his eyes as he looked out to meet the gaze of two vampires standing a good 10 or so metres away. They weren’t moving.

He took a quick second to glance around him and saw no one else. No townsfolk, no other Nords, no corpses besides those of the thralls.

_Thank the nine for that._

“Serana,” one of the vampires said. A Dunmer male. “Just as much of a traitor as your whore mother it seems.”

“Garan,” Serana responded. “I never really liked you. I’m going to enjoy tearing out your spine.”

Instead of responding Garan raised his hands, tendrils of shadows swarming around outstretched fingers. “You’ll never get the chance, my dear.” He turned to face Arven as he raised his hands higher, the tendrils reaching out and lashing onto the floor around him.

“You and that traitor bitch are going to die soon enough, meat! Along with everyone else in this city.” As he finished talking the magicks he had summoned had formed portals, each shimmering in the shadows on the floor as a group of death hounds emerged out the darkness.

Arven dug his heels into the pavement beneath him, raising sword and shield to prepare himself to fend off the breasts. Instead of charging however the hounds merely snarled at him.

Garan turned to the animals. “Go,” he said as each turned off, running _away_ from Arven and Serana. Towards where the townspeople had fled to.

“No…” Arven mumbled beneath his breath. He turned to Serana, a desperate plea on his face.

“No way. I am _not_ leaving you,” Serana said.

“Serana, please.”

“No fucking chance! There’s no way I will-“

“SERANA!” Arven almost shouted. His eyes were pleading, a look of sorrow and despair in them. Serana almost choked up, looking back to the two vampires in front of them. Her apprehension came since she knew Garan. He was ancient. Strong.

“This is what they want. They _want_ to drag me away from you.”

“I know.”

She leaned in close. “Don’t you fucking _dare_ die on me.” Reluctantly she turned, dashing after the hounds to try and put an end to them before they could hurt anyone.

That left Arven alone with the two vampires.

“I just can’t wait to see the look on Lord Harkon’s face when I bring him your head,” the Dunmer called to him. “Especially after you dared to _insult_ him in his own home.”

“Oh, were you there?” Arven called back. “Sorry if you got a bit singed.”

The Dunmer growled. “That we were. Harkon was tired of fledglings not giving him the results he wanted.” He extended his hand as he spoke, sparks of magicka surging in his open palm. “We’ll see if you can fight a _proper_ Vampire without that bitch to protect you.”

They didn’t wait for a reply.

The second vampire charged at him, an elven dagger raised high. Arven swung Dawnbreaker to parry the blade immediately and was met with a jarring force surging through his sword arm as he knocked the blade away.

 _Strong,_ he thought. _Not good._

As soon as he parried the attack Arven felt his stamina draining within a second, his essence being pulled to the side. He turned his head to see Garan standing off to his left with an outstretched hand, draining his stamina and health. In response he raised his own hand, a clumsy ward forming that was just enough to stop the effects for now.

The Dunmer frowned for a moment, but that frown slowly turned to a cruel smile. His other hand raised and sent a bolt of lightning directly at Arven. It shattered his ward, causing the Imperial to take a few steps back. A second later and another bolt struck him square in the chest sending him flying back to crash into the floor kicking up dirt and pebbles. He lost his sword as he fell with only his shield still strapped to his left arm. Just after he fell the other vampire, another Imperial like Arven, advanced on him and stood above the warrior before slamming down with his blade.

Arven raised his shield. He blocked the blow but the force rippled through his body. He felt stones beneath him crack as he was pushed back, the dagger striking his shield over and over. “See how weak you are?” The vampire called. “You’re _nothing_ against a vampire!”

“Fuck you!” Arven called back out of nothing but spite and defiance. As his shield was battered, he conjured a blade in his right hand, seizing it tight in his palm before he opened his mouth.

“ _Tiid klo ul!”_

The moment he felt the dagger slam into his shield once more he pushed back, swinging his shield off to the side to expose himself while swinging with his conjured sword. Time moved so slow that he was able to sever the Imperial vampire’s hand with ease before watching it fall, the hand almost hovering in the air before time returned to normal.

The vampire shrieked and backed away as Arven rose to his feet as quickly as he could. He saw Garan readying another spell with a look of _rage_ on his face and Arven ducked to the side in response, trying to use the injured vampire as a body shield.

It didn’t work. Garan jumped into the air, hovering a good few metres above the floor as he raised both hands to send a torrent of hail and ice at Arven. The warrior tried to raise his shield in time but he wasn’t prepared and he staggered back, sliding on the ground until he was backed up against a wall. Every kink in his armour was being assaulted by hail, small icicles breaking and piercing his skin.

He opened his mouth to shout but he couldn’t. He had icy cold air enter his mouth and his lungs, shocking him into a state where he was unable to breathe.

“Pathetic,” Garan said as he looked down at Arven. His worlds didn’t reach the warrior with the sounds of hail and brutal winds assaulting him.

Arven couldn’t even _see_ due to the thickness of the storm. The winds were strong enough that rocks from the wall he was pinned to were being eroded away, giving out to the assault. He struggled to raise his shield, trying to hold it in front of his body before he was met with an insane pain directly in his stomach.

Just as he processed the pain the blizzard died down, allowing him to see the imperial vampire standing inches from his face with that elven dagger shoved directly into his gut. Arven went to scream but he instead just gasped for air.

“You’re going to fucking _pay_ for taking my hand,” the beast said. Arven clenched his right fist, ready to summon another sword but before he could the vampire ripped off his helmet and back-handed Arven, stunning the man just before Arven felt fangs and teeth sink into his neck.

This time, he screamed. His voice echoed through the town as his warm blood spilt all over his neck and collarbone while the vampire feasted, parts of his neck having been torn open.

He felt his vision fading but he could see Garan walking towards him, hands folded behind his back with a look of satisfaction. “I told you, didn’t I? You’re _nothing_.”

_I’m not dead yet you asshole._

With the last of his strength Arven threw his arms around the vampire that was feeding on him. He caught the beast in a bearhug as if trying to squeeze the life from him.

“You can’t kill me that easily,” he said. Then, Arven started to glow. Restorative magics burst from his body, an aura of holy energy swirling around him in a tempest that seemed to create a spherical shield around him. It was a spell Isran had taught him, he just never used it since it left him so drained.

As he channelled the spell Garan stepped back, shielding his eyes. The vampire in Arven’s arms however, shrieked. The magicks burnt away at his skin, acting as if the undead creature was stuck in the middle of a raging fire as its flesh gave way. At the same time Arven’s wounds slowly began to heal, flesh knitting together as the bleeding came to a stop.

While the shrieks and screams of the vampire filled Arven’s ears, he watched as Garan started to conjure a huge amount of magicka in between his palms. Before anything could happen with it though he was knocked to the side by a thundering blast, Serana having finally returned.

“Get the fuck away from him,” Serana said in a voice that would’ve chilled Arven to the core if he could hear it. Serana advanced on Garan again, overpowering him within seconds with her destruction magic before the other vampire was forced to turn and flee, turning into a cloud of mist that evaporated on the winds.

Serana watched as the vampire fled outside of city walls and went to follow but immediately stopped herself, turning back to Arven. Her eyes went wide when she saw him.

Arven finally stopped channelling the spell, holding nothing but the dried husk made of ashes that was barely holding together. He dropped it and the “creature” dissolved into the dirt. Then, he slumped back against the wall. While the spell healed some damage there were still puncture marks in his neck with fresh blood staining his skin and his chestplate.

“Arven!” Serana ran over to him. She immediately pulled him into a hug, holding him close. “Oh gods, I heard you scream from the other side of the city. _Please_ tell me you’re alright.”

Standing behind Serana Arven found Lydia. She had her blade drawn with fresh blood painting most of it. She was panting heavily.

“I’m okay. Is everyone alright?” Arven asked.

Serana pulled away, looking him in the eyes. Her eyes glistened.

“What do you mean?”

“Did anyone die? Did the hounds get anyone?”

“No,” Lydia said. “We found more thralls, but no one died. Some people got injured but thanks to the companions stepping in, and especially thanks to your friend, everyone is alright my Thane.”

This time, Arven pulled Serana close. He wrapped one hand around her waist and placed the other on the back of her head as he collapsed against her from exhaustion. “Thank you,” he said.

She held him close for a moment. It was one of the first times, if not the first time that someone had ever held her like that. At least as far as she could remember. Over time it moved more from a hug to Arven relying on her to stand, being unable to support his own weight.

Reluctantly Serana grabbed him by the shoulders and held him at arm’s length. “You’re not dying on me, are you?” She said with a half-cocked smile.

He returned the smile, shaking his head. “I’m fine.” He then turned to Lydia. “Hey, Lydia. Got any magicka potions on you by any chance?”

She nodded and walked over, reaching into her back pocket to bring out a small vial of blue liquid. Arven accepted it and skulled it within a few seconds, sighing with relief before stepping away from Serana. He took in a deep breath and every wound on his body began to softly glow with a golden light. He burnt through all that magicka within a moment but he felt _much_ better after.

“Do you need to see a priest?” Lydia asked. She seemed almost as concerned as Serana.

Arven just waved his hand dismissively. “No, I’m okay. I’m sure they’re busy enough already.”

“Alright. I’m going to go see if anyone else needs some help,” Lydia said before she turned, jogging off towards the centre of the town.

“So, can you walk or am I carrying you back home?” Serana asked as she folded her arms, giving Arven an amused look.

“I think I’d rather crawl back,” he replied. He took a step, but the second he did his knee buckled and he reached out for a nearby wall to steady himself. Before he could even process her moving Serana had positioned herself underneath one of his arms, lifting him up and helping him walk home.

She made it look effortless as she supported almost all of his weight.

“I told you I’m fine, didn’t I?” Arven said. He felt like an idiot saying it, but he couldn’t stop his pride from poking it’s head out.

“I know. Just humour me,” Serana replied.

__________

On the way to Arven’s house they’d picked up his sword and the second they walked through the door Arven stumbled over to a closet, pulling out a potion to cleanse him of any diseases. Chances are he had early stages of Sanguinare Vampiris and that is the _last_ thing he wanted.

“Stay there for a moment,” Serana said as she walked off into another room. Arven was happy to comply, relaxing back in a chair that he’d have to clean later as it was quickly stained with grime and blood. In the other room Serana rushed to draw out a vial from a satchel around her waist. She held the vial of Arven’s blood in her hand, almost shaking as she ripped out the cork and downed its contents. Her shaking stopped immediately.

 _Stupid girl,_ she thought. _He’s hurt and you can barely control yourself._

Normally she would’ve left some blood in the vial for an emergency but she needed to be fully sated for what she had in mind.

Arven almost fell asleep by the time Serana came back out a few minutes later.

“Come on, up you get,” she said as she reached down to grab his forearm, helping him to his feet. She basically guided him through his own house into a room with a wooden bathtub, filled to the brim with almost steaming water.

“What…” Arven cut himself off as he just didn’t know what to say.

“You need to clean your wounds,” Serana said as she stood off to his side, arms folded. “They’ll fester. You can’t just go to sleep.”

“Wrong. I _can_ go to sleep. It might just not be the best idea,” he responded.

“Oh good, if you’ve got enough energy to be sassy then you can look after yourself,” she responded.

Arven grumbled to himself but he resigned, starting to remove his armour. He managed for a moment, but after taking off a pauldron he staggered to the side from being off balance. Immediately Serana caught him.

“You’re helpless,” she said before she started to help him. Arven opened his mouth to say something, but in an incredible moment of wisdom he decided not to as Serana un-clasped the many buckles to get his chest-plate off.

“Damn thing is far too complicated, should just go without,” she mumbled.

“Not all of us are as strong as you are. Armour is sort of a necessity.”

After all of his armour had been removed Arven took off his shirt and pants, leaving him in his undergarments. He was far too tired for any modesty.

“Thanks, Serana,” he said before taking a step towards the bath. However, Serana stopped him. He looked back at her with a quizzical look.

“You can’t just get in while you’re covered in blood and dirt. You’ll dirty the water,” she said to him.

“So… what am I doing, then?” He responded.

With a gentle sigh, Serana picked up a clean cloth and a bucket. Filling the bucket with water from the bath she soaked the cloth, standing in front of Arven. The warrior just stood there, stunned.

“Any snide remarks and I’ll zap you. Or worse,” she said. Then, she started to wipe the grime from his body.

Despite his armour and clothing, having a thrall explode in front of him before being stabbed and bitten left Arven as a bit of a mess. As gently as she could, Serana ran the cloth across the wounds that had been sealed by his magicks but could still be seen, not having fully healed yet. Each time she passed over a wound he winced slightly, but didn’t pull away.

Neither of them said a word, or made a sound. All they could hear was water being drained from the cloth back into the bucket whenever Serana went to clean it. By the time she made it to his neck she looked sorrowful as she inspected the bite mark. Her touch was incredibly gentle, with a unique contrast between the coldness of her skin and the warmth coming from the cloth.

After she was satisfied that he wasn’t going to get any infections she hesitated, a hand resting on his chest as she had a close look at every scar on his body. She couldn’t even count them all.

“Serana,” Arven said softly.

“Alright, get in,” Serana said, clearing her head. Arven nodded and walked over to the bath, holding onto the sides and tipping a toe in. He immediately drew it back. “Shit, that’s hot.”

“What, never had a hot bath before?” Serana asked.

“Don’t think so,” he replied.

Serana almost looked shocked. “Oh, you’ve missing out. Just try not to drown.”

Arven nodded as he ever so slowly lowered a leg, then his body into the bath. A long, content sigh came from him as he was submerged up to his neck.

“Oh,” he said. “This is _good._ ”

Serana offered him a smile as she turned around, leaving the room. “Call if you need anything, alright?”

After she left Arven closed his eyes, head relaxing against the back of the bathtub. He didn’t bother to try and clean himself any further, he just enjoyed the warmth of the water. When his mind began to wander, he realised that less than an hour prior he had been fighting, and losing against two very strong, pissed off vampires.

Now, he was safe and content. There was an obvious reason for that.

While he relaxed Serana had taken a seat in the main sitting room, having found another book to occupy her attention as she sat cross legged on a chair. She quickly lost track of time and by the time she’d finished a chapter, it dawned on her that she hadn’t heard Arven say a word. Closing the book she walked back into the bathroom, peering in to see the warrior soundly asleep.

Arven had passed out, arms hanging over the edge of the bath. Thankfully, he hadn’t sunk in and drowned.

Serana walked over, kneeling down beside the tub to fold her arms along the rim, resting her head on the makeshift pillow she formed. She studied him, her eyes watching the relaxed expression on his face that she only ever got to see as he slept.

The man amazed Serana. She hardly ever left her home as a child, so all of her social experience was primarily based around talking to two manipulative parents, and other vampires who were subjects of said parents. Talking to a man who wanted to _kill_ her the second he found out what she was fascinated him.

At first, she found it amusing and saw him almost like an angry child. She didn’t feel threatened by him. She didn’t feel threatened by anyone, except her father. That changed once she found out what _he_ was, and that fascinated her even more.

Now, she felt guilty for the way she treated him the first time they met. Most of that guilt came from how much she seemed to care for him now. It was the last thing she’d expected, but once she thought about it, it started to make sense. He was the first one to ever treat her like a person, not a pawn in some twisted game.

Sure, his initial hatred for her as a vampire made her distant, but somehow that quickly turned away. The fact that he was now willing to fight his hatred and let her feed from him stunned her.

“Hey,” she said, dipping a finger into the water to flick it at Arven. The man grumbled as he woke, eyes slowly lifting to inquisitively stare at her.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you to knock?” He asked. “Better yet, has anyone ever explained the meaning of privacy to you?”

“Don’t fall asleep in the bath, idiot,” Serana responded.

Arven grunted. He didn’t really have a retort to that.

“Out you get, you need some sleep,” she said as she stood up.

Arven didn’t move.

“Everything alright?” She asked.

“…It’s cold, though,” he said back to her.

Serana snorted. “Who’s acting like the child now?” She said before leaving the room.

Arven grumbled as he rose. His body was slightly stiff, which wasn’t a surprise, but the bath definitely left him feeling better. After rummaging through a room nearby to find a clean shirt and pants he walked up to his room, taking his stairs one step at a time while almost pulling himself up by the hand railing. Once he entered his bedroom he saw Serana sitting on a chair in the corner.

“Uhh,” Arven mumbled to himself. Serana looked up over her book with a smile.

“What’s up?”

“Just, you know,” Arven stumbled over his words, primarily due to his exhaustion. He pointed to his bed, then held up a single digit.

“I’m not going to sleep just yet, and when I do, I’ll go to the guest room. Don’t worry,” she assured him.

“But,” Arven started to say, before he was cut off.

“Just humour me,” she said with a sweet smile.

Arven shrugged. He walked over to his bed, collapsed and crawled under the covers. A few seconds later and he was asleep.

Serana put her book down, watching over him for just a minute. She could see the fresh scars on his neck. It was hard to miss, and she sincerely hoped that they’d fade for his sake.

 _I’m not letting you out of my sight again,_ she thought. _Not until this is over._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amd I'm back! Apologies for another delay, haven't had as much time recently to write, and I got my ass kicked around by writer's block for a little while. As always, thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy! And a big thank you to everyone who leaves kudos or a review. I always love reading what you guys have to say!


	10. Chapter 10

“What do you mean, we ain’t leaving until later?” Said the caravan driver. He sat on the same spot he always does, arms crossed as he peered down at Serana.

“Like I said, something came up. Sorry,” Serana replied. Her voice was dry, as if she was forcing herself through the conversation.

“Sorry, but I’m not holding out for you two. I’m not just gonna’ wait when I could be makin’ money,” the driver continued.

Serana furrowed her brow. She really, _really_ wanted to just place him in a trance until they needed him but surprisingly, she felt a pang of guilt at the idea. She knew exactly who to blame for that.

“Fine, just… Here,” she said, throwing a few gold coins towards the driver. “Don’t take on anyone else.”

The driver caught the coins in one hand, counting them out onto his palm before stashing them away. “And how do you know I won’t just leave now you’ve already paid?”

In response, Serana stared at him. She wasn’t going to manipulate him but she felt far less guilty about scaring him just a little. As soon as she made eye contact the driver jolted, his eyes going wide as he seemed to back into the seat of his caravan some more.

“I’ll, uh,” the driver started, clearing his throat. “I’ll be here, miss.”

“Good,” Serana replied before turning off to walk back towards the gates. She tugged on her hood, the morning sun beating down on her with enough intensity to make her rather uncomfortable. She walked with arms folded, trying her best not to draw any undue attention to herself. That was a surprisingly hard task after the events of last night.

Apparently, people in Whiterun were quite adept at gossiping.

As she reached the gates the two guards stationed on duty gave way to her without question. On her way out they’d both thanked her for her assistance in defending the town against the vampire attack. One of them had continued to talk about a vampire attack they’d witnessed in a smaller town, about how the people there weren’t so lucky to have someone defend them.

The entire conversation had made Serana incredibly uncomfortable and she could offer nothing but a nod as she walked past. There was a small, tiny hint of satisfaction as she was thanked and _liked_ by the townspeople who knew of her, but it just felt wrong.

 _This isn’t who you are,_ she thought to herself. _You’re_ not _some hero._

After passing back through the gates she decided to blend in a little more, taking on the appearance to those around her of just another townsperson making their way through the streets. Now that the sun was rising proper, wearing a hood as she did drew too much attention.

She found herself itching to get back to Breezehome, back where she could relax. Well, mostly relax. She had stumbled into Lydia the night prior as she left Arven’s room, after she was satisfied that he was sleeping soundly.

Their conversation was awkward and she knew there was a _serious_ misunderstanding as to why she was in there with him. She just didn’t have it in herself to explain things after everything that had happened.

By the time she saw Breezehome, she couldn’t help but notice someone else walking _directly_ for Arven’s house.

 _Surely not,_ she thought.

As she got closer she kept an eye on the other person, and it only took a few more moments to confirm that the stranger did in fact have the same destination she did. They both reached the door at the same time. As they arrived, they stared at each other.

“Sorry, can I help you?” Serana asked in a kind, yet fake tone.

“I could ask you the same thing,” the other person replied. She was a Dunmer woman, an uncommon sight in Whiterun.

“I’m sorry but, I don’t quite follow,” Serana said as the forced sweetness in her tone took on a sarcastic edge. She stepped in front of the door. “Are you sure you’re at the right house?”

The Dunmer looked very, very unimpressed and just a _little_ bit angry as her brow furrowed deeply.

“You’d best mind-“ the Dunmer started to talk, but she cut herself off. “Ah. You must be the woman that helped him,” she continued.

“That is what they call me,” Serana dead-panned. “And who are you, exactly?”

“Irileth,” the Dunmer responded. Irileth paused, as if waiting for a response before begrudgingly continuing. “Housecarl to the Jarl of Whiterun.”

“Congratulations,” Serana said. She could tell she was getting on Irileth’s nerves severely, and she just couldn’t help but provoke the woman. “I don’t _think_ the Jarl is in right now, though.”

Irileth’s face seethed with frustration. “Tell the Dragonborn to meet the Jarl at his earliest convenience,” she said through grated teeth.”

Serana folded her arms. “Arven is indisposed,” she said.

“I’m sure he can manage a visit,”

“He’s currently recovering from being _stabbed_ and _bitten_. I don’t think he can,” Serana continued.

Irileth took a step closer. “Were he any other man I’d accept that, but he _isn’t_. The Jarl expects to see him by midday.”

Serana didn’t respond. Instead, she just stared directly into Irileth’s eyes. The Housecarl paused for a moment, taking a cautious step back before forcing herself to stand upright. “I trust you’ll let him know,” she said. Then, she took her leave.

Serana let out a deep breath.

 _I can see why he doesn’t spend much time here,_ she thought.

After Irileth was out of earshot Serana turned around and walked back into Breezehome. She was expecting that she’d need to wake Arven, but instead she saw him sitting on a chair in the living room shovelling down food.

He froze like a deer in headlights the moment she saw him, a spoon half-raised towards his mouth.

“Feeling better?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Arven replied. “Pretty hungry though.”

“I _never_ would’ve guessed.” She shook her head before walking over to him. “Stand up,” she said.

Arven looked down to his bowl of food, then back at her. “Can it wait?”

“ _No._ ”

Arven sighed. He placed his bowl down on the floor to his side before standing up, looking down at Serana. As he did so she took off her hood, letting her hair flow out, fringe partially covering her features. As soon as she did so he felt a lump form in his throat as he was reminded once more of just how stunningly attractive she was.

His heart-rate rose ever so slightly and he could’ve sworn that he saw the smallest hints of a smile on Serana’s lips.

“Stay still,” she said as she reached out to grab hold of his chin, lifting it up as she inspected his neck. It had almost fully healed, but deep scars had formed where the vampire’s fangs had pierced his skin. Her expression dampened slightly as she noticed.

“I’m fine, Serana,” Arven said.

After being satisfied that it was healing sufficiently well, she then reached down to pull up his shirt, intending on inspecting the wound where he had been stabbed. Arven stopped her, his hands moving to her wrists to hold them in place.

As she was stopped Serana looked up at him, frowning.

“I’m fine,” Arven repeated.

She hesitated, deciding if she wanted to push the matter but eventually, she relented.

“I appreciate it, but you don’t have to continually check up on me,” Arven said as he sat back down to continue eating.

“You say that, but this is, what, the third time you’ve been seriously injured since we’ve met? Fourth?” Serana replied as she took a few steps back, leaning up against a wall opposite Arven.

“That’s normal,” he replied.

“It really _shouldn’t_ be.”

“Hey, I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”

“And what a miracle that is,” Serana said. She continued to inspect him from afar, searching for any signs of discomfort or pain. He seemed fine but she knew him well enough that he could just be acting for her sake.

 A lingering voice in the back of her mind berated her for being so doting on him, yet she couldn’t help it. Serana felt a direct guilt anytime Arven got injured. The way she saw it, he was trying to fix problems her family had caused. That made her responsible.

Not to mention, her heart ached whenever she saw him in pain.

Before long, she found herself staring. Arven had noticed.

“Does my peasant-like way of eating offend you, my lady?” Arven asked with a mouth-full of food.

“I’m sorry, what?” Serana asked as she shook herself out of a daze.

“You’re sort of staring.”

“And you’re sort of a smart-ass.”

“Took you long enough to figure _that_ one out.”

Serana rolled her eyes. “I’m starting to think I enjoyed your company more when you were just a sarcastic ass.”

“I can easily go back to that if you’d like,” Arven replied. “ _My lady._ ”

Serana grabbed the nearest thing she could find, a book. She threw it at him.

“Oh, by the way,” Serana started as she walked off towards her room. “Jarl wants to see you. You’ve got an hour or so.”

“Wait, _what?”_ Arven called out after her.

Serana smirked to herself as she walked back into her room. As she started to gather her things, she spotted the vial she had drunk from the night before. It had been filled to the brim once more with Arven’s blood.

___________

“Ah, Dragonborn!” Balgruuf said as he stood from his chair, a wide grin on his face. “It pleases me to see you again.”

Just under an hour later Serana and Arven had made their way to Dragonsreach in response to the Jarl’s summons. Arven didn’t want to go for various reasons, but he had come to respect Balgruuf more than the other Jarl’s.

“Good to see you as well, Balgruuf,” Arven replied. He couldn’t help but notice Irileth tense up when he used the Jarl’s name, rather than title.

The Jarl stepped out to clasp his hand onto Arven’s forearm in a rough greeting. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon! I thought I told Irileth midday.”

Arven couldn’t offer anything but a shrug, but as soon as the Jarl turned away for a second Arven looked behind him to stare daggers at Serana.

Serana just winked at him.

“If only you came at more peaceful times.” The Jarl said. “I feel as if the only time I see you is when there’s trouble about.”

Arven shrugged in response. “I suppose I’m cursed.”

The Jarl barked a laugh. “Hah, perhaps! Or perhaps you’re just blessed to live an adventurous life.”

As the two men spoke, Serana and Irileth were both glaring daggers at the other.

“So. First dragons, now vampires. Can’t seem to catch a break, can we my friend?” The jarl said.

Arven nodded. “Seems that way.”

“I’m just fortunate to have had you here when they attacked,” Balgruuf replied as he clapped Arven on the shoulder.

The Imperial felt a small twinge of guilt. Guilt that would’ve been severely magnified if anyone had died the night before.

“Not as lucky as you might think,” Arven said. “They were chasing me. I’m afraid I endangered your town by coming here.”

“You _what?”_ Irileth snapped.

“Irileth!” The Jarl immediately said, turning to face the Dunmer. Irileth didn’t continue to speak, but she was struggling to keep her anger hidden. Arven never got along with the woman but he couldn’t fault her loyalty to Whiterun.

“What do you mean, Arven?” The Jarl asked.

“I’m… investigating, something to do with vampires,” Arven began as he tried to think of how much information to divulge. “There’s a group of them near Solitude causing trouble, with the potential to do a lot of harm if I don’t do something first.”

“So they followed you here to try and stop you?” The Jarl asked.

Arven nodded.

Balgruuf turned back around, sitting down in his chair as he rested his chin on his fist.

“You have my sincere apologies,” Arven said as he bowed his head. Serana remained silent the entire time, but she felt as if she should be the one apologising.

“Nonsense,” Balgruuf said.

Arven perked up his head at that, a look of slight confusing on his face.

“Pardon?” He asked.

“Never apologise for returning to your home, Imperial. We’re fortunate to have you call our city your home. I’m not going to have you feeling guilt for something you didn’t intend, _especially_ when you risked your life to correct it.” The Jarl had a deadly serious look on his face when he spoke, as if he was offended at the idea of Arven apologising to him.

Arven nodded. He went to offer thanks, but stopped himself. It wouldn’t be appropriate.

“So, vampires.” Balgruuf said, exhaling. “ _Nasty_ things.”

“Tell me about it,” Arven replied as he tilted his head to one side, making the scar on his neck more prominent. He didn’t notice, but Serana shrunk back ever so slightly at his response.

“How in the hells are you standing after taking a beating like that less than a day ago?”

Arven shrugged. “Perks of being young, I guess.”

The Jarl barked another laugh. “You better not be implying something there! I could still beat you out of Dragonsreach with one hand tied.”

“You could, or Irileth could?” Arven asked. The Jarl laughed again.

After, Balgruuf turned to Serana. “Ah! I’ve forgotten my manners. I’ve heard tales of your own bravery in protecting my city, my lady.”

Serana stepped forward. She had taken her hood off after walking in and wasn’t making an effort to disguise herself, bar from hiding her fangs and yellow eyes. “Serana. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jarl Balgruuf.”

“You have my sincere thanks for saving my citizens. As with your friend, you are always welcome in the city of Whiterun.”

Serana nodded. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. Being thanked like this was still a very new experience for her.

“I won’t pry too deep into this business of yours, but are you planning on staying much longer?” The Jarl asked Arven. “You are most welcome to, but if you’re being targeted I’ll have to inform the guards.”

Arven shook his head. “We’re leaving today. Have a meeting to attend elsewhere,” Arven said.

Balgruuf grunted in response. “Hmm. I honestly can’t decide if that’s a relief, or not.”

Arven chuckled. He always appreciated the Jarl’s honesty. “I’d say it’s a relief. If I stayed, Irileth would become rather frustrated, and that’d rub off onto you.”

While the Jarl let a brief laugh escape, Irileth’s expression turned into one of disapproval. Arven could never resist a bit of light teasing.

“I can agree with that,” Balgruuf said. “You let me know if there’s anything I can offer to assist you.”

Arven shook his head, but before he could refuse the offer verbally, Serana spoke.

“Some horses would be good,” she offered in a rather nonchalant manner.

Arven just looked to her, lost for words.

“Done,” Balgruuf said. Serana instantly turned to Arven with a beaming smile.

“Wait, no,” Arven said. He turned to the Jarl. “Thank you, but we don’t need horses.”

“What?” Serana asked. “We were just discussing this earlier!”

“And I told you _why_ we don’t have them.”

“Oh come _on_ ,” Serana continued. “Please?”

“No,” Arven said. Serana pouted, putting on her best look of disappointment. Arven felt something tugging at his heart. “ _No,_ ” he reiterated.

After realising that Serana wasn’t getting her way, she folded her arms and turned her back to Arven.

The Jarl laughed once more. “Well, if you change your mind just see my stable hand. He’ll sort you out.”

Arven turned to Serana, giving her a look as if saying _don’t you dare._

_________

As they left the main hall Balgruuf walked up to Arven, grabbing him by the shoulder to pull him aside.

“That’s quite a woman you have there, you know,” the Jarl said.

Arven nodded, half a smile coming over his face. “I’m well aware, believe me.”

“Just where did you find someone like that?” Balgruuf continued. “I heard some recounts of the fighting, and to be honest I’m not quite sure if I believe them.”

Arven looked him in the eye. “What did you hear?”

“Many things, but everyone seemed to agree on two points. Her elegance, and her savagery.” The Jarl waited for a response, but as none came he simply clapped Arven on the shoulder.

“Well, I can’t think of a safer couple in all of Skyrim. I almost feel bad for the fool who tries to rob you two on the street,” he continued.

Arven let out a brief chuckle. “I can’t argue that,” he said.

“You best be off. The sooner you deal with this issue, the sooner you can come back and we can feast!”

For quite some time now the Jarl had been trying to hold a feast for Arven. He’d managed to dodge it every single time. He knew he couldn’t avoid it forever, though. He just rolled his eyes at Balgruuf.

“Your lady is welcome, of course,” the Jarl continued.

“We’ll see,” Arven said. “She can be very picky with food.”

“What woman isn’t?” Balgruuf replied before barking another laugh. The man had a surprisingly alive sense of humour, considering all his city had been through recently.

After Serana and Arven left the main hall Serana slipped her hood on, looking up at the sky while trying to avoid getting any direct sunlight onto her skin.

“So, we leaving?” She asked.

“Don’t see any reason to stick around,” Arven responded.

“Have you told Lydia that we’re leaving?”

Arven shook his head. “Why would I?”

Serana frowned at him. “Politeness, maybe? I’m sure she’d appreciate knowing.”

Arven didn’t reply. He knew she was right, but he still wasn’t planning on dropping back in. He was getting that itch to leave, as he always did after spending even a short amount of time in the city.

“We’ll probably need to find another driver, though,” Arven said.

“Oh, I took care of that. Our driver will be waiting,” Serana replied.

Arven raised an eyebrow. “It’s well past dawn.”

“I know. He’s a loyal sort.”

Arven didn’t have as much faith but, as they exited the city, the carriage driver was waiting for them. As soon as the man saw Serana he stiffened immediately.

“Mornin’, miss. Sir,” the driver said.

_Sir? That’s new._

The two of them quickly took seats in the back of the carriage, settling in. Arven looked at Serana, mouthing _what did you do to him?_

Serana just offered him a sly smile, along with a wink.

Arven thought it was rather unfair, now that he thought about it. Any woman with Serana’s looks could have the world under her heel just by using her smile. Her vampiric powers on top of that just seemed like the definition of overkill.

He had noticed a small warmth in his body that appeared whenever she smiled at him recently. It filled him up, and Arven found himself incredibly relaxed whenever the pleasant sensation ran through him. It was almost enough to hide the nagging feeling in the back of his head that still resisted it.

_________

The rest of the journey back to Fort Dawnguard passed without any further incidents. Arven ended up spending most of the trip to Riften napping with Serana watching over him, the carriage driver silently keeping his gaze forward. By the time they reached Riften it was night, and the pair continued onto the Fort by foot.

Just as they entered the valley leading to Fort Dawnguard, the sun had started to peek over the horizon. Serana put her hood up almost out of reflex.

“So, are you _sure_ we need to go back into the Fort?” Serana asked as the walls of the place came into view. Arven couldn’t help but think it was more like a castle, rather than a fort.

“How many times have you asked this now?” He replied.

“Not enough, since I still haven’t convinced you.”

“You aren’t doing much convincing. More just, whinging,” Arven said.

Serana shoved him.

“Can we just make it quick?” Serana continued.

Arven looked to her as they walked. “Is it really that bad?” He asked.

Serana shrugged, wrapping her arms across her front. “It’s just really, really uncomfortable. Ever heard a blade scrape on stone the wrong way? It’s like that.”

Arven shivered. “You can stay outside, if you want.”

Serana paused, seriously contemplating it for a moment. After a few seconds, she shook her head.

“No?” Arven asked.

“Nope.”

“Can I ask why?”

“I don’t really trust these people,” she said, head tilted off to one side in thought.

“I’d be shocked if you did.”

Serana rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless anyway, if I let you out of my sight for a second you’ll fall over and break a leg or something.”

Arven sighed, but he didn’t push it any further. As they reached the first palisades blocking entrance to the fort he took off his helmet, raising a hand in greeting. Behind him Serana’s gaze turned to him, as she did every time he took off his helm. He didn’t notice.

They managed to reach the entrance to the fort without incident this time. It was as busy as ever, with trainees running through drills and workers re-enforcing walls. A cook had even started a large stew, the scent of which had all the men and women who were training drooling with anticipation.

As they reached the entrance Arven pushed open the large doors, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light. Conveniently, the Moth Priest was standing in the centre of the room talking to Isran.

“Ah!” The priest called out as they entered. “My rescuers!” He walked over to Arven and Serana, taking the hand of each in turn and shaking it with a grateful expression.

“It’s good to see you both again,” the priest said.

Arven nodded at him in turn. “No issues finding your way here?” He asked.

“None at all, thankfully,” the priest replied. “It was quite the relief; I don’t think I could have handled another encounter with those vampires.”

The priest’s voice caught in his throat momentarily as he looked to Serana. “Ah, present company excepted, of course.”

Serana offered a blunt smile. “It’s fine,” she said.

“I hope they’ve made you welcome here,” Arven continued.

The Moth Priest gave a hesitant smile. “It’s not the hospitality I’m used to, but your man Isran has seen to my needs well enough,” he said. “And I might add, this is a remarkable fortress. I have colleagues back home that would love to study this place in detail.” As he spoke about the fortress his eyes lit up almost instantly. His passion for study was obvious.

“No,” Isran said.

“What?” Arven asked. “Why not? He _is_ helping us out.”

“They’re already targeting him. If the vampires get to him later on I don’t want him telling them everything there is to know about my fort.”

Arven sighed. “After we sort this out, I’ll speak to him,” Arven said to the Priest with a soft smile.

“I’ll admit, I’m impressed you could find a Moth Priest so quickly,” Isran said as he walked over to Arven, arms folded across his chest.

“They made it easy for us,” Arven replied. “Finding them, at least.”

“No issues?” Isran said.

Arven grimaced. “We survived. They’ve been getting more aggressive, though.”

“How do you mean?” As Isran spoke his eyes studied Arven intently, as if looking for something.

“They attacked us in Whiterun, out in the open.”

Isran grunted. “You were the target?”

Arven hesitated. “Both of us, I think,” he said as he turned to Serana. “They want the scroll, but they seem to want to kill us just as badly.”

Isran’s eyes narrowed as he turned to look over Serana. “Didn’t take long for them to turn on their own. Not that I’m surprised.”

“It’s expected when I’ve killed more of them than your entire order has combined, don’t you think?” Serana retorted, flashing a cocky grin.

“Good to know loyalty runs deep for you,” Isran replied.

“I’m loyal to those I care for. More than you know.”

 _Gods, this is an uncomfortable conversation,_ Arven thought.

“So, does he have the scroll?” Arven interjected. “Is everything ready?”

“For the reading?” Isran asked, turning back to Arven. “Yeah.”

“Are you ready, Priest?” Arven asked.

“Oh, most certainly!” The Priest replied. He walked over to a nearby table, lifting up the Elder Scroll with a slight grunt before moving back to the centre of the room. “Let’s find out what secrets the scroll can tell, shall we?”

Arven couldn’t help but notice a small crowd had gathered. Most of the other Dawnguard members were standing on the edges of the room, with Arven, Isran and Serana closer to the centre.

“Now, if everyone will please be quiet, I must concentrate,” the Priest said.

Dexion opened the scroll, his eyes focusing with a look of alarming clarity as he studied it’s contents. The room was deathly quiet as he proceeded. Just before he started Isran had taken out a piece of paper and a pen.

“I see a vision before me, an image of a great bow…” Dexion said. “Ah, I know this weapon! It is Auriel’s Bow!”

At the mention of the bow both Serana and Isran perked up, listening even more intently.

“Now, a voice whispers, saying ‘Among the night’s children, a dread lord will rise. In an age of strife, when dragons return to the realm of men, darkness will mingle with light and the night and day will be as one,’” the Priest continued. At the mentions of a dread lord, and of dragons, both Arven and Serana appeared to shrink back ever so slightly.

“The voice fades and the words begin to shimmer and distort,” the Priest said. “But wait, there is more here,” Dexion said. It sounded as if his voice was becoming increasingly strained.  “The secret of the bow’s power is written elsewhere. I think there is more to the prophecy, recorded in other scrolls.”

Isran let out a short sigh, shaking his head as he continued to scribe. Arven couldn’t help but smile.

 _Of course this wasn’t going to be easy,_ he thought.

“One contains the ancient secrets of the dragons,” Dexion said.

_Oh, maybe it will be easy._

“And the other speaks of the potency of ancient blood.”

_Maybe not._

Dexion paused for a moment, his face growing tired suddenly. “My vision darkens, and I see no more,” he said as he closed the scroll. He stumbled slightly but Isran was immediately at his back, supporting him.

A soldier ran up and seized the scroll, hefting its weight and taking it away.

Dexion looked up but his eyes were completely glazed over and unfocused. “To know the complete prophecy, we must have the other two scrolls,” he said. “I must rest now, the reading has made me weary.”

“Come on old man,” Isran said. “You should get some rest.” Isran lead the priest off into another room, supporting his weight. The crowd had dispersed as quickly as it had gathered, leaving Serana and Arven alone in the main entrance to the fort.

Arven walked over to the closest wall, sitting down on an empty bench next to some stacked boxes. Serana joined him shortly after.

“What’s up?” She asked.

“I’m really getting tired of Scroll hunting,” Arven said.

Serana clicked her tongue. “Yeah. That _might_ take a while,” she said as a hint of a smile crept up on her lips.

Arven eyed her off, curiously. “Should only need one though,” he continued.

“Wait, what? The Priest said two.”

“Yeah, and one of them is about dragons,” Arven said. “Ring any bells?”

Serana’s eyes widened as she realised what he meant. “You still have it?”

“Well, no. But I know where it is,” he said. Serana almost _glared_ at him, as if she was calling him an idiot through her gaze. “It’s in the safest place possible, trust me,” he continued.

“Fine, fine,” Serana said. “Well, for the other one. I think I know where we can start looking.”

Arven blinked. “Didn’t feel like speaking up when Dexion mentioned it?”

“You didn’t either,” she retorted.

“…Yeah. Fair point.”

“Besides, half of the people in your little crew would just as soon kill me as talk to me. That doesn’t exactly make me want to open up,” she said as she leaned back against the wall, hands clasped in her lap as she looked up. Her hood slid back, but her long hair still covered most of her features as it fell across her face. “I got a warmer welcome from my _father_ , and that’s saying something.”

Arven let his head rest against the wall behind him, turning to face Serana. Some of his hair blocked his vision, but he didn’t bother to wipe it away. “What is it between the two of you?” He asked.

Serana shifted on the spot, her hands fidgeting. She looked about the room, but the two of them were basically alone at this point. The rest of the Dawnguard had left to attend to their duties. “We… ever since he found out about the prophecy, decided to make it his calling. We kind of drifted apart,” she said.

When she spoke like this, Arven couldn’t help but see the more human side of her. Despite her strength and her presence, there was a part of her that was still just a regular young woman.

“Does Harkon even care about you anymore?” Arven asked.

Serana grimaced momentarily before trying to shift the expression into that of a smile. It wasn’t very convincing. “You know, I’ve asked myself the same thing,” she said. “After you woke me, I thought… I hoped that if he saw me, he might feel something again. But I guess I don’t really factor in at this point.”

Serana turned her head up, looking Arven in the eyes with a half-smile across her lips. “I don’t think he even sees me as his daughter anymore. I’m just… a means to an end,” she said.

Arven wasn’t entirely sure what to say. He didn’t have a way with words at the best of times, after all. The only thing he could think of was to reach out, grabbing hold of Serana’s hand to give it a soft squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” he said under his breath. Serana’s half smile turned into a proper one.

“Anyway,” Serana said, sitting up a little bit straighter as Arven pulled his hand back. “We need to find my mother, Valerica. She’ll definitely know where it is, and if we’re lucky she’ll actually have it herself.”

“Wait, that’s an option?” Arven asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Isn’t she missing?”

“Sort of,” Serana responded.

“How can you _sort of_ go missing?” Arven retorted with a hint of sarcasm dripping from his voice. Serana rolled her eyes at him.

“The last time I saw her, she said that she’d go somewhere safe, somewhere my father would never search,” Serana said. “Other than that, she wouldn’t tell me anything.

“That hardly narrows it down, though.”

“But, the way she said it… ’Someplace he’d never search.’ It was cryptic, yet she called attention to it,” Serana said.

Arven leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Sorry Serana, but… you sure you aren’t reading into this too much? This _was_ a long time ago.”

Serana nodded. “No, it’s fine. You’re right to be hesitant. Besides, I can’t imagine a single place my father would avoid looking.”

“The Sun?” Arven asked.

Serana shook her head. “You’re an _idiot_ ,” she said. Arven just struggled to suppress a snort of laughter.

“Only places I know of to look for Vampires aren’t the nicest to go searching around in. Old caves, crypts, castles. Anything dark and deserted is a good start. Not that it really narrows things down,” Arven replied. He waited for a response, but none came. Serana was sitting on the spot, eyes furrowed.

“Serana?” He asked.

“I’ve got an idea,” she said.

“Really? What?”

“Well… you’re going to wish we got those horses.”

Arven squinted, then he sighed as he realised what she meant. “No,” he said.

“I haven’t even told you yet!”

“We are _not_ going back to that castle,” he continued.

Serana smirked at him. “Who said we’re going back there?” She said. Arven just glared at her until she relented. “Alright, alright. But we need to.”

“Don’t you remember what happened last time we were there?” Arven asked.

“Vividly,” Serana said. “It still makes me smile when I think about you scaring them all off.”

Arven grimaced. “Sure, but, that’s not the part that I remember.” As he talked Arven started to idly play with his hands in his lap. Harkon was one of the few things that really got to him.

In response Serana scooted a bit closer to Arven, nudging him with her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m not suggesting we walk in the front door,” she said. “When I was back there, I found out that huge sections of the castle had been shut off, sections that my mother used to work in. I guess my father, in his rage, wanted to get rid of everything that reminded him of her.”

“Still,” Arven said. “Staying there seems like a huge risk.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Serana replied. “But my mother’s not a coward. I mean, I don’t think we’re just going to trip over her there, but it’s worth a look.”

Arven let out a defeated sigh. “At the very least, we might find something to lead us in the right direction,” he said.

“And trust me, it’ll be safe,” Serana said. “That place looked like it hadn’t been touched for hundreds of years. I doubt that’d change anytime soon.”

Arven let out a deep breath.

 _That’s going to be another, very long walk,_ he thought. _Maybe we_ should _get horses._

As Arven sat in thought, he was quickly distracted by the sound of plate boots ringing out on the stone floor. Looking up, he spotted Isran walking over to him. The man didn’t look happy. Then again, he never did.

“I’ll meet you outside, alright?” Serana said as she stood up, walking past Isran. The two made eye contact but neither offered any form of greeting or recognition.

“Boy,” Isran called out as he got closer. “Come with me. We’re going to have a little talk.”

Arven sighed internally, but he followed.

_This doesn’t sound like fun._

Isran led Arven up to the second floor, away from the rest of the soldiers within the fort before he spoke again. He turned around, _glaring_ at Arven with a look that made the Imperial shiver.

“What in the hells are you doing?” He demanded. He didn’t raise his voice, but Arven could feel the anger.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Arven retorted.

“Are you a fool? Do you think this is some sort of game, now?” Isran continued. Arven opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off. “Why in the hells are you _getting along_ with that thing?” Isran continued.

Arven waited a moment before replying, meeting Isran’s gaze. He knew what the man was thinking, and if Arven was being honest with himself, he couldn’t blame the older warrior.

“She’s not controlling me,” Arven said, exhaling deeply.

“How could you _possibly_ know that? Especially after she already has!” Isran said.

“Because she’s on our side. She doesn’t have anything to gain by controlling me,” Arven responded.

“Of course she does! She’d get you as her own personal puppet.”

“She’s been going along with _our plan_ this entire time! Why would she control me only to help us?”

“Has she? Or are you just playing into her plan without even realising it?”

Arven sighed. He was struggling not to let his frustration boil over. He could sympathise with Isran, after all, if the situations were reversed, he’d say the exact same thing.

“If she had a plan to help her father, she wouldn’t need me. I am _no_ threat to her, Isran. None of us are,” Arven said with an effort to keep his voice low and neutral.

“No threat? Tell that to the dozens of those beasts we’ve killed.”

“Vampires, sure. We’ve all killed our fair share,” Arven said. “Serana has probably killed more than anyone else.” Taking a step closer Arven locked eyes with Isran, not faltering despite a growing urge to look away and walk out of the fort.

“We shed blood and risk lives to kill vampires,” Arven said. “Serana _doesn’t_. She isn’t even threatened by some of the oldest and strongest vampires I’ve seen. Back when we were attacked in Whiterun I had two vampires almost kill me, I barely managed to take one down before the other one was seconds away from taking my life. Serana showed up and batted him aside without even trying.”

Isran’s brow furrowed as Arven spoke. The older man didn’t reply, but he didn’t break eye contact.

“I’ve only seen her struggle once,” Arven continued.” Out in broad daylight against a damn _dragon_. Even then, with a fucking dragon breathing fire at her in the middle of the day she didn’t die. Instead she saved my life.”

Isran murmured to himself. He took a step back, rubbing a hand over his face as he idly looked about the fort.

“You seriously think she’s on our side?” Isran said, in a much more neutral voice.

“Yeah,” Arven said. “I do.”

Isran grunted. “Can’t say I like the idea.”

“Like it or not, she might be our only chance. I can’t imagine anyone killing Harkon in a fair fight. She’s the only other person I know who even comes close to him.”

“Well, if the old man was right, the Bow might be able to stop him,” Isran said.

“Auriel’s Bow? What is that?” Arven asked.

Isran folded his arms, giving a half-hearted shrug. “I thought it was just a legend. An ancient bow of peerless craftsmanship that channels the power of the Sun,” he said.

Arven raised a brow. “Channels the Sun? That sounds almost _too_ convenient.”

“Just about as likely as blocking out the Sun,” Isran retorted. “I really hate all this prophetic shit.”

Turning back to Arven, Isran grumbled to himself. “Alright, fine. Keep travelling with the damn thing. By the Divines though don’t go catching feelings for it.”

Arven stood momentarily stunned after hearing what Isran said, but before he could reply the older man continued to talk. “Don’t try and tell me otherwise. I’m old, not _stupid._ You’re a smart boy, don’t do something dumb and get yourself killed, or worse.”

Isran turned to leave, walking off in the opposite directions to the stairs they had used previously. “Don’t forget what side you’re on,” he called behind him as he left.

 _I wonder if I’m ever going to have a normal conversation with him,_ Arven thought.

When Arven left the fort he found Serana right outside the main doors, leaning up against the fort while remaining in the shade.

“Fun conversation?” She called out.

Arven rolled his eyes. “I’ve had worse,” he said.

“Let me guess,” Serana started. “He doesn’t like the fact that we’re getting along?”

“We’re getting along?” Arven asked. “I’ve just been tolerating you.”

“You ass,” Serana replied.

Arven snorted with amusement. “You’re right. He’s worried that you’re controlling me.”

“What? That doesn’t even make sense, if I was controlling you why am I helping you?”

“That’s _exactly_ what I said.” Arven replied. “He’s just being overly cautious, as he always is.”

“I suppose,” Serana said. The pair of them had started walking back down the hill that lead away from the fort, the conversation dropping off before Serana started it once more. “You know I’m not, right?”

“Hmm?” Arven asked, turning to face her.

“You know I’m not controlling you,” she said.

Arven smirked. “Yeah, I know Serana.”

A soft smile came to her lips. “Good. It’d be a bit easier if they even _thought_ about trusting me, though,” she said. “I understand where they’re coming from, but I haven’t given them any reason to distrust me.”

“You’re a vampire, that’s reason enough,” Arven said with a sympathetic look. “I understand your frustration, but I understand where they’re coming from as well.”

“You came to trust me though, why can’t they?”

“You saved my life,” Arven said. “More than once. You also went out of your way, starving yourself in order to make me feel more comfortable. It’s hard not to trust you after that.”

“You’d think having you vouch for me would make them a bit more relaxed,” Serana said.

“It does,” Arven replied.

“Really?” Serana said with a quirked brow. “Doesn’t really feel like it.”

“They aren’t trying to kill you on sight. That’s a _big_ change, you know.”

Serana looked straight ahead, a slight frown on her face. With the hood covering most of her features it was hard to get a good read on her, but Arven could tell she seemed upset. Conflicted.

“I wish people weren’t so quick to hate Vampires,” she said.

Arven opened his mouth to respond, but just ended up stuttering. He quickly realised that he needed to think very carefully about what he said.

“I get it, I do,” Serana continued. “But… being hated for a thousand years takes a toll on you, you know?”

“I’m sorry Serana, but you can’t expect people to blindly trust vampires,” Arven said. “Every single vampire I’ve ever met has tried to kill me. I’m not going to give the next one I meet a chance just because they _might_ be nice.” As he spoke Arven kept his voice soft. It wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. He wanted to reassure Serana, but he wasn’t going to blatantly lie to her.

“There _are_ good vampires, Arven.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever met one.”

“That’s the point,” Serana said.

Arven turned his head to her, slightly confused.

“There are vampires out there who live with mortals peacefully. They just don’t tell anyone what they are, or else they’d be hunted.” Serana explained.

Thinking back, Arven _had_ heard of stories about vampires who had lived in a town for decades, only to make a mistake and end up being hunted or killing half of the town before fleeing. He’d always been confused by those stories and ended up assuming that they did it while secretly trying to control the town, just to get some sort of sick entertainment from it all.

“Just because your power is given to you by an evil being, doesn’t make you evil. You’re a perfect example of that,” Serana said with a gentle smile.

Arven couldn’t think of a response to that. He _did_ however have a question that had been bugging him for quite a while.

“Serana… why did you become a vampire?” He asked. He wasn’t sure if he should, if it was appropriate. It had just been eating at him for a long time. The two had just walked out the gates leading to the camp before the fort, leaving them both alone.

Serana frowned at him. “That… is a very long story,” she said.

“I guessed as much,” Arven replied.

Serana grimaced. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Arven said.

“No,” Serana replied. “It’s fine. It was… a family decision. Do you know where vampirism came from?” She asked.

Arven thought for a moment, but he ended up offering her a shrug. “Not sure. I’d guess a Daedric Lord.”

“Yes, exactly,” Serana said. “The first vampire was made by Molag Bal. She… wasn’t a willing subject, but still the first.”

Arven felt a chill run down his spine at the mention of that Daedric Prince. He didn’t speak though, and Serana continued.

“Molag Bal is a _very_ powerful daedric lord, and his will is made reality,” she continued. Every time Arven had heard that Prince’s name be mentioned it was with a hint of fear. Except for now. Serana almost sounded like she was _proud_ to be talking about him. “For those willing to… subjugate, themselves, he will bestow the gift of vampirism. _But_ they still must be powerful in their own right beforehand.”

“So, you became a vampire for power,” Arven said.

“Simply put, yes.”

“Out of every Prince to follow though, you chose Molag Bal?” Arven asked in a quieter voice.

“You say that as if you know him,” Serana replied.

“I might’ve had a run in with him before,” Arven said.

“How did _you_ of all people end up in a situation with _him_?” Serana asked, almost shocked.

Arven sighed. “I was asked by a Vigilant of Stendarr to help cleanse a place of Daedra, a long time ago,” he said. “He thought it was just a regular Daedra, but it wasn’t. I agreed to help him but once we were there, Molag Bal started talking to me. He tried to convince me to kill the Vigilant. I refused, so he instead made the Vigilant attack me.”

“You refused him? How?” Serana asked.

“I told him to get fucked,” Arven replied.

Serana scoffed, a slight hint of amusement hidden behind her shock. “No, I mean, how did you turn him down? You can’t just say _no_ to someone that powerful if they want you to do something.”

“I don’t know,” Arven said. “Maybe he was toying with me, maybe it’s because I’m Dragonborn and that affects things somehow, but he wasn’t controlling me. He just asked. After I was forced to kill the vigilant who attacked me, he wanted me to do something else. I shouted down the door and left before finding out what that something else was.”

“I’m sorry,” Serana said after a pause. “I had no idea.”

“I get working with Daedra, I do. I’ve done it before myself,” Arven said as he took hold of his sword in its hilt, a blade he got from Meridia. “But Molag Bal? He’s _vile._ ”

“Vile or not, he’s powerful,” Serana retorted.

“And you follow him willingly?” Arven asked.

“…Yes,” Serana said after a small hesitation. “My family does, and we were rewarded.”

“Did _you_ choose that, or did your family?” Arven said.

“What do you mean?”

“The choice to, well, follow him. Become a vampire. Did you make that decision or did Harkon force you into it?” Arven asked, trying to lock eyes with Serana. She averted her gaze.

“I was chosen by Molag Bal, specifically. Selected. That is _not_ the kind of thing you reject,” Serana retorted.

“That didn’t answer my question.”

Serana’s expression turned sour for a moment, but she quickly hardened it. “We all chose to take part,” she said.

“Right,” Arven said. “So, you followed him for a while, he chose you and made you all Vampire Lords?”

“Not quite,” Serana replied. “My father had to offer… a few sacrifices. Then, there was a ceremony.”

Arven raised a brow.

“We had to _give_ ourselves. It… wasn’t exactly a wholesome family activity,” Serana said. Arven shuddered.

Neither of them spoke for a few moments, an awkward, uncomfortable silence falling over them until Arven decided to break it.

“Do you regret it?” He asked.

“Huh. No one’s ever asked me that before,” she said. “I… don’t know. I think… mostly, I just hate what it’s done to my family.”

“Vampirism and happy families normally don’t mix well,” Arven said. Serana just offered him a sympathetic look in response.

“Ever thought about a cure?” Arven asked. He’d wanted to ask that for a long, long time. He just never had a chance to bring it up.

“What?” Serana said, a hint of anger in her voice. Arven thought of dropping the subject, but he continued.

“A cure,” he continued. “For your vampirism.”

“Why… Why would you even think of it like that?” Serana responded with a much louder voice. “This isn’t a _disease_ to be cured, it’s a gift. A very, _very_ powerful one, and after what I had to go through to get it there is _no_ way I’m giving it up.”

“Power isn’t everything, Serana. Is it really worth it when it destroys your family? Ends up with you locked away for _hundreds_ of years?” Arven said.

“What’s a hundred years when I’ve got millennia left to live? It may have driven my family apart, but I’m still here. I’m alive, and I’m _strong_. And strength takes sacrifice. Not all of us are lucky enough to be handed the power of damn dragons,” Serana said. Her voice held a lot of anger, yet as she finished speaking, she caught he tongue, a look of shame on her face.

“I, didn’t mean…” She started, only to be cut off.

“Lucky, huh?” Arven asked, his voice turning bitter. “Tell you what, if I ever figure out how to how to make someone else Dragonborn, instead of me, you’re first in line. We’ll give it to someone who appreciates it, yeah?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Serana said.

“Sure sounded like it.”

“Look, sometimes the ends justify the means, alright? Yes, what we’ve both been through was horrible, but it was _worth_ it. You know how powerful you are. How powerful I am, how powerful my father is,” Serana said.

“Fuck your father,” Arven said. “Fuck everything you just said.” Arven turned to face her as he spoke, stopping in his tracks. “Yes, I’m strong. Stronger than a _lot_ of people but I don’t care. I didn’t want the power. I didn’t crave it, it was forced on me, and now I feel obliged to use it because if I don’t, people die. This isn’t some gift in disguise, some hidden blessing, it’s a curse. Over the last few years I’ve spent every day of my life fighting something. Someone. I’ve come closer to death more times than I can count. I should’ve _died_ more times than I count, but this fucking blood keeps me on the brink of survival every goddamn time.” As Arven spoke he clenched his hand out of anger, struggling to keep his voice in check. The sound of metal breaking quietly rang out, one of the chains in his gauntlet giving way to the pressure caused by his closed fist.

“I don’t like fighting. I’m good at it, but I hate it. Fighting dragons is terrifying. Fighting Vampires is terrifying. Walking around in a dimly-lit crypt crawling with undead horrors is _terrifying_. If I could load this onto anyone else, anything else I would do it in a damn second and go live a normal life,” Arven continued, his voice growing hoarse as he didn’t give himself time to take a breath.

“Arven, I-“ Serana started before she was cut off once more.

“And don’t you _dare_ act like what your family did to you was okay. I’m glad you enjoy the power you have. I’m glad you got something out of that _fucked_ situation. There is nothing in this world, nor will there ever be, that makes what they put you through okay. You’re their _daughter_ , it’s their job to protect you and they threw you to Molag Bal for his enjoyment so _they_ could get drunk with power. I can’t imagine the shit you went through, and I know what I’m imagining probably doesn’t even come close to what actually happened. You _didn’t deserve that,”_ Arven said. His face was growing red, both out of anger and a lack of air. He had taken a step closer to Serana while speaking, but she took two back, shocked by the sudden outburst.

“Your father is disgusting. I know he’s your father, but he is, and you are _so_ much better than him. I’m not stupid enough to think you’ve never done anything wrong, anything bad, you’re a vampire that has lived for a long, long time. But you’re not a bad person, and you are so, so much better than your father, and _far_ too good to ever be following a repugnant piece of filth like Molag Bal,” Arven said, finally pausing to take a few short breaths.

The conversation stopped after that. Arven and Serana both stood silent, looking at the other. Arven couldn’t quite figure out what Serana was thinking as her expression had gone almost completely blank.

Arven exhaled. “I shouldn’t have asked, that was stupid,” he said.

Serana didn’t say anything in response.

_Shit. I really need to learn how to shut my damn mouth._

“Let’s uh, just keep moving,” Arven said as he stepped off. He walked for a few seconds before noticing Serana wasn’t following. He turned to face her and she was looking away, arms crossed as she seemed to hug herself.

Arven stepped back towards her. “Hey, Serana?”

He could see her shoulders shuddering ever so slightly, her face twisted with anger and sadness.

“I… have to be okay with it, Arven,” she said to him, although she didn’t turn to him.

“What?” He asked, taking a few steps closer.

“The things he did. The things I had to go through, what my parents made me do, I…” her voice choked as she spoke, causing her to curse under her breath. “I _need_ to be okay with it. I have to have… some, control over it.” She finally turned to look at Arven, and he could see tears forming in her eyes. Arven immediately closed the distance between them, taking his gloves off hastily.

“He tortured me. _Violated_ me, for what felt like days. Weeks. It has to be worth it, has to be worth something because if I did all of that for no _fucking_ reason,” eventually Serana’s voice came to a stop, the woman unable to talk as she raised a hand to her mouth, struggling to stop the emotion she was holding in from coming to the surface.

Arven reached out with bare hands, placing his palms on her cheeks as he looked her in the eyes. His thumbs moved to wipe away the tears that streaked down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Serana,” he said before he pulled her close. One hand ran through her hair while his arm wrapped around her shoulders as Serana buried her head into the crook of his neck.

Arven held her there, the two of them alone in the canyon until he finally felt her shoulders stop shuddering in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Finally back with another update. Won't say too much this time but as always thank you for reading and I hope you're enjoying it! No real action this chapter, but there should definitely be some in the next one. I've been trying to answer any questions people have had through the story as well, but if there's anything you might be curious about please reach out. Thanks!


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